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#the boys filling in is such an interesting concept i love
mamaestapa · 2 months
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obvi we’ve established that everyone knows about ethan & rutger and reader, but does anyone else ever join or see anything. i know we’ve talked about mark (that’s hot🤭) but does adam, luca, luke, or dylan ever say anything or do anything?
(i am lukey girly so im secretly hoping you’ll say yes luke does)
hot take: the guys will joke about the relationship and what it’s like to share a girl, but they secretly all want to know what it’s like
so mark definitely joins, which we know that. i could see some of the other guys asking about how it all works like maybe dylan, luke and adam, but they’d leave you three (and mark) be.
they also don’t find out about mark filling in until ethan is away and you decide to do it with mark and rutger for the first time
ANYWAYS
i could see luca maybe being interested…👀 he’s played a big part in trying to solve what was happening and he’s one of the biggest supporters too. i could see him being curious, but i don’t know that’d he’d join or fill in
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dirtytransmasc · 5 months
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self indulgent got concept.
Ned brings Jon home, Cat hates the boy, everything stays the same... until Robert Baratheon is charging through the halls of Winterfell looking for the babe, ready to butcher the poor thing where he lay helpless in his cradle.
in a matter of moments Catelyn learns three things:
The babe was never a bastard, Ned had only lied to her to protect Jon, and that she would die before she let Robert lay a finger on the babe she'd previously wished death upon.
cue Catelyn Stark snatching Jon from his cradle, holding him, protecting him, loving him as she would her own son, risking it all to keep him safe, all care for herself thrown to the wind.
like they say, what a mother's love holds no bounds, and what it makes her capable of had no limits.
#listen listen listen#I just want Catelyn to love Jon Snow and I don't care what I ahve to do to make it happen#(plus the angst is delicious)#I was rewatching old kids movies and ended up watching ice age and idk why but the mom sacrificing herself for her babe gave me ideas#I just imagine young Cat holding onto the boy she hated and wished death on for being bastard (only to find out he wasn't one) as tightly-#as she could. knowing Robert and his men were coming. knowing they would slaughter the boy in front of her. knwoing she'd wished for this-#and deciding she'd give her own life to protect him if thats what it came to.#and in my mind she jumped from the window of the nursery knowing the halls will be filled with the kings men and leave little chance for-#escape. before fleeing on injured legs to hide the babe and herself knowing Robert would be right behind her. she's in agony. but she'll-#going for the babes sake. she won't stop until her heart is dead in her chest. even if it hurts to move and breath and think he keeps going#maybe she takes a horse and flees wintefell all together. maybe she hides somewhere in/around the castle. maybe Robert catches her?#if she runs with him she'd have nothing but the clothes on her back. she'd have to feed him and keep him warm. she'd have left her own son-#behind. the potential angst and hurt/comfort as Cat misses her own son and learns to love another. feeding him and keeping him warm from-#her own body while she's injured and lost and at the will of the elements of the strange new place she now considered calling home#idk I just think it'd be an interesting concept#there's something about a mother and her child being cornered by 'wolves' (in this case a stag). this has the added spice of Cat and Jon's-#dynamic. just earlier that day she could barely look at him and now she's willing to die for him. the change happened in seconds.#that was a lot of ranting in the tags. oops. anyway...#catelyn stark#jon snow#I love putting these two in harrowing. life altering. and/or traumatic situations so they can finally just be mother and son#I live for the angsty family feels#got#game of thrones#asoiaf
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dcxdpdabbles · 8 months
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Cave boy Danny has way to much fun fucking with the bats after a while. Jason is too until Danny bites him after some unwanted human contact. Alfred gets a big wave of nostalgia when Danny does it too.
Danny can say that the Waynes have been ridiculously welcoming, all things considered. He still hasn't come clean about not being Bruce Wayne's alternative double, so to throw them off from finding out the truth and have a safe place to crash- he's missed plumbing- he has been invited to the Wayne Manor and has been lazing about when under their watch.
If there was one thing apparent, it was that Bruce Wayne did not laze about. It was mind-blowing to those who knew him to see Danny- a version of Bruce- act like walking across the room for a remote was too much work.
It drove them mad to see such a difference between them, and thus, none of the Waynes noticed Danny's side project to get home.
The Waynes gave him a giant room and helped set up a fake Identity for him while they worked on getting him home. To the public, he was Danny Kane, a long-lost relative recently coming to Bruce for help.
Thanks to the support of Jacob and Kate, they agree to make it seem that Jack Kane- Danny's made-up father- was the result of Bruce's material grandfather having a fling after his wife's death. Jake was hidden from the public eye but had his father's financial support until he was an adult.
Jack was never bitter and told Danny stories of his wayward father, filled with love to prove it. These stories inspired Danny to seek out the remaining Kanes after Jack's untimely death, which led him to Bruce as Martha Wayne nee Kane's son.
The day Danny would be sent home, the Waynes would fake his death, and no one would be the wiser that Danny Kane never existed.
Fine by Danny
. He only planned to stick around long enough to get his ship ready and pinpoint a location that had the vile between the living and dead thin enough to slice his way back to the Ghost Zone.
Unlike Wulf, who could open portals wherever he wanted, Danny had to find points weak enough to punch a hole through. He knows his parent's portal was way out of his set of skills, and he sure as hell wasn't going to give anyone the idea to build their own here. Two percent of portals were already two too many.
He mostly hung around the house- with someone always close by in a poor attempt to hide the fact they were watching him. Most of the time, Danny was either lazing around the house, eating and sleeping, and it felt like a costly vacation.
He refused to help on the coms when the Bats went out to kick ass, even after Dick offered to sit in front of monitors and relay information to the heroes like he was offering the chance of a lifetime.
This seems to disturb everyone else in the house except for Alfred.
If anything, the fact Danny straight-up refused to put on tights and rush into night to fight crime made Alfred adore him. The butler claimed he was worried everyone in the family would forget what everyday life was supposed to feel like.
A few Waynes couldn't seem to wrap their heads around the concept.
"You're not interested at all?" Tim asks, eyes narrowed. He was among the few who thought Danny was suspicious for not wanting to risk his life to fight the corrupted system.
"Nah, man, I'm good here. I got my nachos, I got a movie room and I got the softest bathrobe ever bathrobe." Danny snuggles more profoundly into the pink plush robe that Steph had lent him. "Why would I want to ruin any of these? Sides, I can't even throw a punch."
".....There has never been a single alternative Bruce Wayne that wasn't involved in this life in some way. If not as a hero then he was a villain. Bruce as a villain is one of the most dangerous things that can ever happen across the multiverse" Tim reveals grimly. "We've won every single encounter but only by the skin of our teeth."
"Damn. Let me guess. You guys beat the evil Bruces by sending his kids after him."
"Yes."
"Problem solve. You already know you can kick my ass, so if I try anything, you can take me out, right?" Danny doesn't wait for a answer. He turns away from the teenager to stare at the movie screen showing his picked movie. "I can do nothing but tremble before your bat might."
Tim steps into his line of sight. "I mean it. You do anything to harm this family and will regret it."
"Does that mean I can't bite Jason again? That sucks. It's the only way I can get him to stop trying to drag me to galas. He wants to scare the other rich people with my poor people's manners."
Tim's lip twitches and Danny knows he's fighting to keep his face under control. "You didn't have to lock your jaw in like that."
"I really did. Jason tested me."
Tim tilts his head. "You don't really feel like Bruce. You look just like him at fifteen. Alfred says you act just like him. But for the last three weeks, you've been trying really hard to make it seem like you're okay with doing nothing."
"I am comfortable doing nothing."
"I think you're lying," Tim says, moving closer to stare down into Danny's eyes with frankly a manic glare. Danny's core flares up with the sense of challenge he finds in that dark blue gaze.
Which is a first for a human, and frankly is terrifying. If Tim had been a ghost he would have easily been an Ancient assistant or a baby Ancient. He has to be able to match Danny's power like this. Holy shit.
"I think your parents didn't give you enough love as a child, and now you seek approval from everyone around you while trying to push everyone away because you are too scared to make yourself valuable. You find yourself in an endless loop of self-doubt and self-hate by doing both simultaneously." Danny blurts. He watches Tim freeze, then winces. "Shit, sorry, the psychoanalyze came out as a reflection. Forget that."
Tim is still frozen in a way Danny recognizes as someone hearing something challenging to come to terms with. This is why he needs to break the habit of using Jazz's psyche training as a weapon.
He forgets not everyone insults each other with their deepest insecurities. That's just how he and Jazz love.
"...Do you want to watch the Grey Ghost Marathon with me?" He asks after a long pause. Tim closes his eyes before plumping down next to him.
"I like that."
Neither mention Jason, who is gasping in the last row of seats and attempting to suppress muffled laughter behind the wrist cast that Danny lovingly gave him at the last gala.
On a side note, Danny Kane is called "Rabid Dog." by the elites of Gotham, who watched the boy make three grown men cry after two minutes of talking to him and also witness four Waynes attempt to pry his mouth open screaming, "No Danny drop it. drop it!" while the boy munched on Jason's wrist.
No one has noticed that half of the tech has disappeared.
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hi! can you do a percy jackson x daughter of hera!reader? she's supposed to not have children but it would be pretty interesting if she did, and im curious🤍🤍
⋆⭒˚.⋆ percy jackson x daughter of hera! reader hcs
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content: percy jackson x daughter of hera! reader hcs warning: i was about to say none all happy like but literally the second line has 'fuck' so...language author's note: okay okay still rereading rn and i have vague memories of hating hera for some reason that is alluding me but i've made the excitative decision that all of whatever she did that was so bad to piss 12 yr old me off...doesn't exist???? if i ever write anything that agrees with canon, kill me bc it's NOT me yall it is an imposter fr
forbidden girl with forbidden boy????
i like to imagine zeus pissed off hera, as he often does, and she was just like 'okay fuck you' and slept with a marriage counselor
but also connected with him on an emotional level bc like i feel like she needs that??? idk, not a huge fan of hers but whatevas
i just know as the daughter of marriage, you value loyalty about everything else
which is why percy, who's fatal flaw is loyalty, is perfect for you.
you know he's loyal, so loyal it'll kill him
that's the kinda man you need
also, the princess treatment is real
hera has her eyes on you, always
youre her only child, like, ever.
of course she's watching you every second of every day
zeus can't even kill you if he wanted too, hera having grown too fond and would surely destroy all of olympus if he tried
your cabin would have a very soft and pastel aesthetic and honestly percy prefers it to his cabin
also i feel like you would be vegetarian at the least bc like...that's fucked up if you eat cow...like your mom would not be happy with that
if you are, percy goes out of his way to make sure your comfortable
"oh, is that vegetarian?? no?? then get it tf away from me and my precious girl???"
forces (she would do it willingly) sally to fill the freezer with vegetarian snacks just for when you come over
also, you like always look put together.
even in sweatpants and one of percy's shirts, your hair manages to fall in just a perfect way and your eyelashes look like they have mascara on but you don't
just a pretty pretty princess fr
percy goes out of his way to spoil you just because he wants to, no other reason
"why are you giving me a peacock??"
"...do you want it or not?"
"hEY! mr. prince would like you not to refer to him as an 'it' anymore." you huff, crouching down and instantly pulling the peacock into your arms, cooing at him gently
"wait, wait, you can talk to it??"
"HIM!"
"WHATEVER"
so in love
also your father??? best man ever
loves percy
loves you
in that order too
jk jk i kid
not really tho
he's just a man who's really in touch with his emotions and he was just such a good father to you, subtly making you comfortable with the concept of greek gods and whatnot as a child
also, jason and thalia?? best step siblings ever
they just welcome you into the family without even thinking about it
one second you weren't there and then the next you were.
when percy comes around asking for permission to marry his daughter, your father just smirks and shakes his head at percy
"you're asking the wrong parent, percy."
which is exactly what percy didn't want to hear
he didn't want to talk to your mother, the GODDESS AND PERSONIFICATION of marriage, about marrying her only daughter.
surprisingly, hera took it pretty okay, instantly gushing about how pretty you'll look at your wedding.
percy joined in and then it was just the two of them raving about how pretty you were
which was a topic percy could talk about all day
actually, anything to do with you, could leave him yapping for days or weeks or months
that's just how enamored he is
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leahluvr · 7 months
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joy - lucy bronze x reader
genre: fluff, kidfic, your son wasn’t very interested in football, not until today
warnings: none
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ever since your’s and lucy’s boy was born, kai never had an interest in his mum’s job. despite the amount of games he had attended, he just never got excited about the concept of football. lucy had tried to encourage him to get into the sport, but she always gave up, it being useless on his attitude. today, however, was different.
you and your 3-year-old son, kai, snuggled on the coach, patiently waiting for lucy to come home from training. you played with his short, soft, brown locks, admiring mothers features.
“mama,” he asked.
“hmm?”
“is mummy coming home soon?”
“yeah she is, angel.”
“mama?”
“yes, kai?”
“can i wear mummy’s jersey and play football at the park with mummy and narla?” your son asked, looking up at you with hopeful eyes.
your heart swelled with warmth at his question. lucy had been waiting for this moment ever since you had given birth to him. you pause for a moment, thinking about how happy lucy would be.
“of course, sweetheart. let’s get you into that jersey and surprise mummy when she gets home.”
kai disappeared in mere seconds, the sound of small feet pattering on the floor, rushing towards his bedroom. you followed after him and found the blue and red jersey, pulling it over his head. he did a little twirl, showing off the bronze and 15 printed on his back. his eyes lit up with joy when he turned to look in the mirror, the excitement of surprising his mummy evident in his smile.
“looking handsome, kai!” you admired.
as you made your way back to the living area, the two of you could hear the distant sound of the front door being unlocked. lucy was home. kai sprinted to stand by the door, his small hands shyly fidgeting with the hem of his jersey.
“mummy look!” he exclaimed as lucy entered, his voice filled with enthusiasm. “i’m wearing your jersey! can we please go to the park and play football together, just like you?”
lucy’s eyes widened in surprise and delight, her face breaking to a wide grin. this was a special request - a bridge between her professional job and intimate family life.
“absolutely, kiddo!” she turned to steal a glance from you, smiling, “let me go get the ball.”
with that, the three of you walked to the park hand-in-hand, narla trailing along beside you. as the grassy field came into view, kai raced narla towards it, lucy jogging close behind.
lucy knelt down, eye level with your son.
“okay, champ, let’s show mama what you’ve got.”
he nodded enthusiastically and with a newfound determination, your son kicked the ball towards lucy, who kicked it gently back to him.
lucy always displayed patience and encouragement, traits that made her not only a world class player but a world class mother as well.
the two ran around, passing the ball to each other while narla bounded around them, hyped from the loud squealing of your son.
you settled on the picnic blanket, a soft smile gracing your lips as you watched them play. your heart warmed with love, not just for your wife but for the family you had built together.
after their mini football training session finished, lucy walked her way towards you.
“he’s a natural,” she laughed, “our little man’s growing up so quick, isn’t he?”
“yeah and soon he’ll have another member on his team,” you whisper, placing a hand on your stomach.
“i love you.”
“love you more.”
your moment of romance was interrupted by the crying of a certain little boy.
“mummy! narla broke the ball!”
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an: i lowkey i hate this omg
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mandobatemans · 9 months
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glasses (Steven Grant x fem!reader)
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A/N: just a little blurb inspired by steven's glasses bc they make me feral
word count: 844
NSFW BELOW THE CUT
also posted to ao3
Whatever volume of his Steven was poring over was probably very important, something for work or his personal interest. What was very important to you at the moment was the way his glasses fell on the bridge of his nose, the way he would every so often bite his lip, getting lost in his thoughts, or the way his tongue danced over his lips to wet them. If it were Marc or Jake, they'd know exactly what their actions were doing to you. But this was Steven. Your sweet, sweet Steven who had no concept of just how sexy every single thing he did was. He could roll up his sleeves a certain way and you'd be crawling out of your skin ready to jump him and be totally unaware. You loved that about him, but right now, all you wanted was for him to put the book down and study you on his desk instead.
He would follow the words on the page with his finger, your eyes trailing the movement from across the room. You had planned to walk to the park together and work on your separate activities while sharing a bench, like you often did, but the rain had other ideas. Your activity was long forgotten, thrown to the side in favor of watching Steven, but he was still engulfed in his, eyes devouring every word on the page except for every so often when he would stop to make a note.
He touched his finger to his tongue, wetting the digit to help him in turning the page. This by itself would have set you off, but coupled with the fact that he had looked up and smiled at you while doing so, totally unaware of the thoughts racing through your head, had you rushing across the room to him.
“Y’alright, love?” Steven asked, looking up at you over his glasses.
You nodded, eagerly, maybe too eagerly. “Yeah, yeah, ‘m fine.” You shifted your weight back and forth, unsure how to bring up the fact that you wanted him to pin you down and fuck you within an inch of your life.
Steven had closed his book and taken his glasses off, setting them down on the desk so he could better focus on you. “Are you sure? You look a bit jumpy.”
“Mhm, I just–” You paused when you saw Steven pause. He had the expression on his face that came when Marc or Jake were speaking to him.
When he returned to you, there was a faint blush on his cheeks. His eyes darted between you and where he had set his glasses.
You smiled inwardly, knowing one of the other boys had filled him in on what exactly had you so jumpy.
Steven stood, picking up his glasses and placing them on the bookshelf behind him.
“What are you doing?”
“One moment, darling,” he said, picking up the stacks of books cluttering his desk and moving them to the couch you had been sitting on earlier. Once he had moved them all, he lifted you up onto the desk where the books had been, slotted his body between your legs, and crashed his lips into yours.
You welcomed the feeling of him on you, the familiar heat of his tongue pressing into your mouth, and the weight of his body against your own. You grasped a hand in his hair and welcomed the moan he let out that was lost in between kisses.
- - - -
He had you on your back, both legs thrown over his shoulders, taking you apart with his tongue. Steven was gentle, and that's what was so tantalizing about it. No matter the pace he went, he always coaxed an orgasm out of you, if not multiple. And they were always mind-blowing.
As he licked inside of you, tongue curling the way his fingers would, his nose rubbed against your clit, still wet from the attention he had given it moments before. Steven liked to watch you come undone, partly because he loved looking at you, and partly so he could memorize every single expression you made as a result of his actions. He held your hand when you came, something he liked to do no matter what position you were in. It was sweet and intimate, a ritual during sex that you became accustomed, and even looked forward to, with Steven.
He rose from between your legs, hovering his body over yours so he could press kisses to your neck and shoulders. “You did so good, sweet girl.” Steven helped you sit up and readjust so your hips were almost hanging off the desk. He pressed his forehead to yours, giving you a quick peck on the lips. “Can you take some more?” He asked, hand coming up to caress your cheek.
You nodded, pressing a kiss to his palm, but interrupted him while his other hand went to undo his belt. “Wait.”
“What’s wrong, love?”
You pointed to the bookshelf, and his eyes followed your finger. “Put the glasses back on.”
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creepy-friday · 1 year
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YOOOO THAT WAS SO GOOD 😫
Although I couldn't help but think about the deer in forest watching them do this 💀
But ok, I actually have an idea:
Do you think you can make headcannons (they can have NSFW if you want) about what would happen if the three Proxies actually fell for/grew attracted to Y/N? 👀
Like I think that would be such an interesting concept, the rivalry would go through the roof 😰
But again! Only if you want to!!! 💖
I love this! 👀 inspiration kicked in!
What if the three Proxies would fall for you?
AFAB READER
Warnings:suggestive themes,misogyny,
abuse,mental illness and violence mentions
if you are unfortunate enough to be the object of affection to these 3 gremlins then all I can wish you is good luck!
since you're a proxy you would be mostly  assigned missions with the other minions of Slenderman,on very rare occasions you would work with the other creeps (I will get into that later)
you're also the only feminine presence they come in contact with,I'm also gonna press the fact that they are touch starved men in a manor filled with rapists,mentally ill and paranoic people.Things aren't pretty so I'm not gonna sugarcoat it
altough you're powerful given your rank and all,they are fully grown men.It's NEVER safe to be unarmed when spending time with any of them,including Toby who sometimes gives off the impression of being this sweet lost unfortunate boy
He's also the first one to be delusional enough to think you can be into him given your role to mediate others and to keep things under control.
he doesn't know shit about women,sure he can remember fragments of how his sister used to be,but he can't compare you to her.Given his experience with Clockwork+the constant bullying from Masky, he's insanely insecure
he has a mommy kink
he fell for the way you take care of him,even if it's just your job.If you do nice things like checking up on him even when you two aren't working it results into fuelling his delusions
because of his feelings he's a literal ticking bomb,wanting to spend as much time with you as he can but in the same time to stay as far away to not make a fool of himself
you cannot please him.He will literally want to crawl into your skin and head to know exactly what you're thinking 100% of the time.
at times,he knows he's wrong.He knows he's unhealthy,but he cannot give up on you now that you're stuck with him.His fights with Masky will get even more violent,resulting in him being patched up by either EJ or you
he will also fake bad moods,anxiety attacks and will even cut himself so that you pay attention to him.He can be a very good actor and knows how to manipulate his way into your arms
he takes out his sexual frustrations on his right hand tbh,thinking of like 100 scenarios under 5 minutes then repeating for half a night.Don't ask about his dark circles the next day,he will feel even more disgust towards himself than he feels already
whenever he's alone he acts like a horny teenager and whenever he's alone WITH YOU the scenario would go two ways: it's either complete silence with him acting all creepy and stealing glances in your direction or him acting even more creepier and being all over you.This results in two tic attacks,one worse than the other
I feel like Brian would be his biggest problem in order to get to you.He gets very clingy whenever the hooded man is around,and gives off the impression of being in control even tough he's in a constant state of anxiety
Masky is one son of a bitch.He will get all violent with you over every inconvenience and argument.
couldn't sleep last night?It's because of you.(I mean,it kinda is but still)
he has no power over you but desperately wants to.
makes nasty comments about your body whenever you're in a state of undress or if you wear clothes that accentuate your body shape.The comments might vary from slut shaming to cat calling he insists are "compliments" (he knows they are disrespectful,he does it on purpose to piss you off)
as long as your attention is on him he can sleep well at night.
this is how he started.You never gave in the fear nor the disrespect coming from him.Sure,you had your meltdowns,but he found your strength endearing ,he wanted to break you
he's sure you'll grow up on him.He counts on Tim to woo you with his gentlemanly behaviour,but he's just as mentally fucked as his other side.
Masky wants to own you.He daydreams of doing atrocious things to you while you either cry or praise him.He's one sick man,and he knows it.
at the same time,a small part of him wants you to fuck him and that big mouth of his.The only between is Tim,who wants to be by your side and to protect you from the other animals in the mansion
his fights with Toby get intense,but also longer than usual.If he loses in front of you he would have a bad day for the rest of the week tbh
arguments with Brian might also result in fights,but his friend has a way of slipping out of them since he knows you're the reason for his sudden increase of hormones
as I previously mentioned,on the rare occasion you might work with the other creeps,Masky would start to be a little fuck and make assumptions to whoever stayed in your presence for far too long,might also result in violence if said creep happens to be male.
Brian is way more manipulative than Toby when he needs to be,he laid eyes on you the first time you arrived there.
altough he's one tall boi,he blends well into his surroundings,that gives him the advantage to watch your every single move and to analyse your behaviour
you're fascinating to him,you're fearless yet you're sickly sweet.From your rare smile to the way your hair sticks to your forehead during long training sessions,he found himself way too attracted to you
couldn't care less about that prick nor anger issues in a person,he could simply get what he wants during a matter of time
he finds Toby pathetic but takes pity on him,and finds Tim irritating from to time to time,but more in a sibling type of way,he would be up for sharing tbh
he respects his work so he respects you as well,altough he won't take your side whenever Masky starts to insult you,no,he wants to see your reaction,the way you carry yourself
he sees you as his equal in the line of work,but has moments when he looks down on you,sometimes he's sure you won't last long in such a cruel world
Hoodie is the rival of no one,in terms of looks and strength he's intimidating,he could beat his teammates if they would ask for a fight,but he thrives off of mind games
Masky pissed you off?you can trash talk him to Brian.Toby made you uncomfortable?That's okay,he's here to listen!
he will be your shoulder to cry on,and he really listens to you without the need to mansplain or to invalidate your feelings.He has a way with women
he's unapologetic for the times he closed his eyes and pretended you're whimpering on his lap
Hoodie can act cold towards you whenever he wants your attention,he can be all touchy fuzzy for a day then the next day to treat you like you're no longer friends.Keeps you in hot-cold games to test your limits and to keep you interested in him
he can also be a little shit and to give others a side smirk whenever you choose him to partner up someplace
you got yourself in quite the situation. Good luck getting out! The woods are a dangerous place,so leave no marks behind as you run,some might enjoy the chase~
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leoserblog · 10 months
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Ok this might be an unpopular opinion but someones gotta say it...
Cassandra is a better Casey Jones than Casey Jr
Ive gotta be honest... i think casey jr is a kinda mid and i dont particularly think all the fanfare about him is warranted LOL
I want to note real quick that i dont DISLIKE him! He is a good character who only got as much development that a 2 hour movie could give him, and he filled and satisfied the role he needed to play in the movie, but the way the fandom latched onto him over the og casey... kinda makes me raise a brow
(Essay/rant about the prioritization of casey jr vs og casey under the cut :P)
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Fandom spaces love a traumatized boy from the future, and believe me i do too! But the amount of attention given to casey jr after being revealed as casey is a wild amount compared to the amount of attention the original casey gets. Maybe its just me getting into rottmnt after the movie aired, but this seems a little baised?
Not only that, but the amount of... idk the best way i can think to describe it is infantilization of casey jrs character isnt helping my opinion of him. It feels like most content surrounding him babify him and reduce him only to his trauma post movie. I understand that it can be interesting to explore his trauma now that he no longer lives in the literal apocalypse, but it feels strange to see him reduced to someone who cant get around on his own and lives with the turtles when the original pitch for the movies ending has him leave to explore the world, which i feel is very appropriate for him and wish they had kept it in
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In the movie when april shows us where the og casey has been and what shes been doing throughout the film, it tells us that casey is friends april which in theory, shouldve also shown us that she and the turtles are friends to some degree as well and should already have her place established within the group as this generations casey jones
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However the final shot of the movie is a group shot of the family+casey jr, which subtlety implies that he's the new casey instead, and that this is the main cast moving forward (should it move forward *sob*). While both caseys being considered in the main cast could be true, it does strike me as a little odd that this was the final direction the rot team decided on for the official ending versus the scrapped ending, especially because it complicates the pre-established canon. It wouldve been one thing if our og casey was a different character, but that isnt the case.. y... (<_<)
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Casey jr is an interesting character though! And i can understand why he appeals to fans, especially as his character post movie is fun to expand on aswell as developing his past involved with future versions of the main5, but one (me lol) could argue that the og casey is just as interesting of a character to delve into as she was involved, when you boil it down, a cult most of her life, and that concept, as well as the guilt she could hold for working with the foot and releasing the shredder, ontop of trying to befriend and gain the turtles and aprils trust are also intriguing concepts that could be explored, yet finding content that mentions her at all beyond her relation to casey jr is scarce
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It feels as though shes been reduced to a background character within the fandom despite being a reoccuring character for the entire show.
For the two seasons of rottmnt that we did get, we are shown just what kind of character casey is and her possible dynamics with the turtles+april. Shes passionate and powerful and beyond determined to prove her worth and reach her goals. Shes also playful and reckless, a side that fits well with the main cast and their humor and, if the show was given more time, couldve developed naturally as the newest addition to the family as most caseys are. I could also argue that her characterization fits that of previous caseys more than casey jrs does (though i will admit that considering the plot of the movie, i cant positively say what hed be like outside of life or death scenarios, but i also cant imagine hes going to make a 180 in personality without it feeling jarring and ooc)
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Now, i wont ignore the fact that her arc was cut horribly short and her involvement in the movie was quite literally a brief mention, both of which definitely play into how under appreciated she is. But at the same time it almost feels like everyone, including the show runners, have willingly pushed her aside for this new boy version to fill the role of casey jones. Hell, even when you look up rottmnt casey jones, cassandra barely shows up. Its casey jr which further proves my point
Idk, TLDR im pretty disappointed that despite being a consistent character for the entire show, no one seems to write or acknowledge her and if she is mentioned, its only relevant to push forward casey jrs character development or a brief cameo. As much as i do love casey jr (i can feel like hes mid and i can like him!) it seems like most people forget about the original casey, or favor casey jr in her place and she deserves more love and credit than shes given!
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missetbilu · 1 month
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KEEPING A CLOSE EYE*
perv!fred weasley x fem!reader, smut
when fred overhears you and the girls chit chatting about boys that you fancy, he can’t keep his mind from wandering, nor his hand.
warnings: perv concept, jerking off
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"Come on, Y/N, there's gotta be someone you fancy." Ginny elbowed you, trying to get a response.
Angelina, Hermione, Ginny and yourself were in your favorite little spot in the library. A very secluded area, where you could study, sneak in some food, talk, without prying eyes or ears.
Although in that afternoon, you were not very much enjoying the topic of choice. Boys. Too shy to come clean about your little crush, you would much rather gossip or even focus on the charms essay due next week than engage in the conversation. But the girls were not having it.
"Yeah, even Hermione admitted to being completely, head over heels, in love with Ron." Angelina teased.
"Hey!" The girl blushed and looked away for a second, but curiosity got the best of her and she gave in to the argument. "She's right tho, you're the only one left."
"I just don't think of any guy here like that."
"In this castle full of boys, you expect me to believe not even a single one of them is your type?" Ginny said.
"Unless you're into girls."
"I'm not." You laughed at Angelina's curious expression. "I like men."
"Then name one you would" Hermione stopped herself mid sentence, suddenly a bit shy, "...you know."
"Fuck?" Angelina completed her thought and they all laughed, Hermione also shushing her and looking around to make sure they were alone.
"Alright." You took a deep breath and tried to sound as nonchalant as you possibly could. "I guess Fred is kind of cute."
"Aw dude, are you serious?" Ginny's disappointment was so clear in her face that the three other girls bursted out laughing.
"Shhh, guys, I don't wanna get kicked out." Hermioned said between giggles.
"Sorry, babe, but this was too good not to laugh at." Angelina responded, still chuckling.
"Too good? All my friends wanna fuck my brothers."
And you all fell into laughter again.
-
It had been a week since Fred discovered that spot of yours to hang out. Whenever you and the girls disappeared from his sight, he would get anxious, wondering where you might be.
Until the day he was looking for a potions book, but found something far better: you.
He managed to hide in the corridor next to the one where the group of girls would sit on the floor and chit chat. Usually he took no interest in the conversations you would have. But not that day. Throughout the whole week he listened to each silly subject the girls brought up, only paying attention to the sound of your angelic voice when you made a comment. That day it was different. Once the tables turned from homework to guys you fancied, Fred felt his heart skip a beat.
He was nervous, his palms becoming sweaty as each of the girls rambled about one boy after the other. He barely listened to the guys his sister brought up, nor to the mentions of his brothers. What mattered most to him was what you were going to say. He was so afraid of hearing another man's name fall out of your pretty lips; so afraid you would confess to feeling attracted to someone else.
But he was also infatuated with the possibility of his name being the one in your mind. You quietly listened to what your friends had to say, too scared to say something yourself, Fred saw that in your expression as he tried to eye your figure from the place where he was hiding. Just thinking about it, being him the person you kept yourself from mentioning, made his trousers feel a bit too tight. His hand travelled down to his growing bulge, but he didn't move it, he didn't want to risk not hearing you.
Your silence allowed his imagination to run wild. Maybe this whole thing got her thinking about how good I would fuck her, and she's afraid of sharing those filthy thoughts. He stroked his cock once, over the fabric of his clothes. Or perhaps she's so lost in the desire of getting filled up with my cum, she didn't even notice how quiet she's been... oh fuck... He did it again and had to hold back a moan.
Fred knew he shouldn’t, but it was as if he had no control over his actions. His hand slipped past his boxers and he stroked his dick, trying so hard to imagine it was you doing it.
Has she ever had a wet dream with me? He wondered. She would wake up sweaty and out of breath. Her panties are completely damp, but it's not because of the sweat, it's arousal. I bet she would be embarrassed, looking around the dorm to see if the other girls are sleeping, before she goes under the covers and... He gasps quietly, his hands going a bit faster now. And she lets her hand touch her dripping cunt... He bites his lip to stop himself from cursing. Her sweet fingers would tease her clit and she wouldn't be able to stop a moan of my name from coming out.
"Alright." When the word left your mouth he slowed down his movement, focusing on the head of his member. It was almost painful the way he teased his tip, trying to pay attention to what you were about to say. He even held his breath, that and the expectation making him even more sensitive. "I guess Fred is kind of cute."
Fred was really thankful for the loud laughter of the group that followed your confession, because the minute he heard your sugary voice saying his name, it was too much. He came in his hand with a low grunt.
He didn't listen to anything said after that. He didn't move or took his hand off of his trousers. He was in shock. As much as he wanted that outcome, it felt unreal now that it happened. He had imagined how you would sound saying you fancied him, what words you would choose and what exactly would be the look on your face. But none of it compared to the reality of it all.
You, such a perfect picture of beauty, intelligence, kindness. The most incredible, endearing and angelical woman he had ever set his eyes upon, out of all people, wanted him.
Fred waited until you all had left to pick himself up from his spot on the floor and attempt to use some spells and his robes to hide the stain in his pants. He did a good job, it wasn't too noticeable, but deep down he didn't care. There was something, or rather someone, much more important in his mind.
He stood in front of the corridor where you had been just a few minutes before. "I guess Fred is kind of cute." That played in his head over and over again, like a broken record. And Fred definitely didn't want to fix it.
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hedgehog-moss · 3 months
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Inspired by your last ask! What are the best French books you’ve read that have no English translation yet? I read Play Boy and Qui a tué mon père (really loved the latter) last year and it feels so fun to read something that other Americans can’t access yet
I'm too nervous to make any list of the Best XYZ Books because I don't want to raise your expectations too high! But okay, here's my No English Translation-themed list of books I've enjoyed in recent years. I tried to make it eclectic in terms of genre as I don't know what you prefer :)
Biographies
• Le dernier inventeur, Héloïse Guay de Bellissen: I just love prehistory and unusual narrators so I enjoyed this one; it's about the kids who discovered the cave of Lascaux, and some of the narration is written from the perspective of the cave <3 I posted a little excerpt here (in English).
• Ces femmes du Grand Siècle, Juliette Benzoni: Just a fun collection of portraits of notable noblewomen during the reign of Louis XIV, I really liked it. For people who like the 17th century. I think it was Emil Cioran who said his favourite historical periods were the Stone Age and the 17th century but tragically the age of salons led to the Reign of Terror and Prehistory led to History.
• La Comtesse Greffulhe, Laure Hillerin: I've mentioned this one before, it's about the fascinating Belle Époque French socialite who was (among other things) the inspiration for Proust's Duchess of Guermantes. I initially picked it up because I will read anything that's even vaguely about Proust but it was also a nice aperçu of the Belle Époque which I didn't know much about.
• Nous les filles, Marie Rouanet: I've also recommended this one before but it's such a sweet little viennoiserie of a book. The author talks about her 1950s childhood in a town in the South of France in the most detailed, colourful, earnest way—she mentions everything, describes all the daft little games children invent like she wants ageless aliens to grasp the concept of human childhood, it's great.
I'll add Trésors d'enfance by Christian SIgnol and La Maison by Madeleine Chapsal which are slightly less great but also sweet short nostalgic books about childhood that I enjoyed.
Fantasy
• Mers mortes, Aurélie Wellenstein: I read this one last year and I found the characters a bit underwhelming / underexplored but I always enjoy SFF books that do interesting things with oceans (like Solaris with its sentient ocean-planet), so I liked the atmosphere here, with the characters trying to navigate a ghost ship in ghost seas...
• Janua Vera, Jean-Philippe Jaworski: Not much to say about it other than they're short stories set in a mediaeval fantasy world and no part of this description is usually my cup of tea, but I really enjoyed this read!
Essays / literary criticism / philosophy
• Eloge du temps perdu, Frank Lanot: I thought this was going to be about idleness, as the title suggests, and I love books about idleness. But it's actually a collection of short essays about (French) literature and some of them made me appreciate new things about authors and books I thought I knew by heart, so I enjoyed it
• Le Pont flottant des rêves, Corinne Atlan: Poetic musings about translation <3 that's all
• Sisyphe est une femme, Geneviève Brisac: Reflections about the works of female writers (Natalia Ginzburg, Virginia Woolf, Sylvia Townsend Warner, etc) that systematically made me want to go read the author in question, even when I'd already read & disliked said author. That's how you know it's good literary criticism
Let's add L'Esprit de solitude by Jacqueline Kelen which as the title suggests, ponders the notion of solitude, and Le Roman du monde by Henri Peña-Ruiz which was so lovely to read in terms of literary style I don't even care what it was about (it's philosophy of foundational myths & stories) (probably difficult to read if you're not fully fluent in French though)
Did not fit in the above categories:
• Entre deux mondes by Olivier Norek—it's been translated in half a dozen languages, I was surprised to find no English translation! It's a crime novel and a pretty bleak read on account of the setting (the Calais migrant camp) but I'd recommend it
• Saga, Tonino Benacquista: Also seems to have been translated in a whole bunch of languages but not English? :( I read it ages ago but I remember it as a really fun read. It's a group of loser screenwriters who get hired to write a TV series, their budget is 15 francs and a stale croissant and it's going to air at 4am so they can do whatever they want seeing as no one will watch it. So they start writing this intentionally ridiculous unhinged show, and of course it acquires Devoted Fans
Books that I didn't think existed in English translation but they do! but you can still read them in French if you want
• Scrabble: A Chadian Childhood, Michaël Ferrier: What it says on the tin! It's a short and well-written account of the author's childhood in Chad just before the civil war. I read it a few days ago and it was a good read, but then again I just love bittersweet stories of childhood
• On the Line, Joseph Ponthus: A short diary-like account of the author's assembly line work in a fish factory. I liked the contrast between the robotic aspect of the job and the poetic nature of the text; how the author used free verse / repetition / scansion to give a very immediate sense of the monotony and rhythm of his work (I don't know if it's good in English)
• The End of Eddy, Edouard Louis: The memoir of a gay man growing up in a poor industrial town in Northern France—pretty brutal but really good
• And There Was Light, Jacques Lusseyran: Yet another memoir sorry, I love people's lives! Jacques Lusseyran lost his sight as a child, and was in the Resistance during WWII despite being blind. It's a great story, both for the historical aspects and for the descriptions of how the author experiences his blindness
• The Adversary: A True Story of Monstrous Deception, Emmanuel Carrère: an account of the Jean-Claude Romand case—a French man who murdered his whole family to avoid being discovered as a fraud, after spending his entire adult life pretending to be a doctor working at the WHO and fooling everyone he knew. Just morbidly fascinating, if you like true crime stuff
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satocidal · 5 months
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-RING RING!!
Say Hello to our Operator Number two, Exclusively in Demand:
── .˳⁺⁎˚ This caller seems to be into Power Play and the Normalisation of Frat Boys
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── .˳⁺⁎˚ Gojo Satoru Starring in ⌞Power Couple!?⌝
Synopsis: the famous rich boy of the campus and the principal’s daughter? Scandalous—especially when they’re both jealous as hell.
— word count: 7.7k
— a/n: sort of like a repost/continuation—the sfw part is basically the entire “Opposites Attract!?” Fic, but since the idea was a part of kinkmas I’d initially decided to split it but then, I didn’t want that anymore soooo here you go, slow burn(?) with smut lmao [scroll like all the way down for just the smut💀] [also for Gojo’s birthday I posted it a day earlier hehe]
— warnings: fem! Reader x Gojo smut!! MDNI!! Oral (m! Receiving); partial exhibitionism(?); undertones of jealousy; porn with plot; slightly subby Gojo to total daddy dom moment💀 power dynamics; cheating dynamics(?); Suguru; lot of build up and pining; idiots in love; Satoru gets drunk (non-canon but shut up); manhandling; oral (m! Receiving)
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4.5 g.p.a—a perfect reputation that you held, a decent social life—an amazing father to back you up, you weren’t ever part of the fraction of people who got in through with scholarships, why would you when your father stood as the dean? —but you’d worked for it.
3.7 g.p.a—it could’ve been far better, easily, if he only put himself in—far too loud a social life with a following of 4k+ on his Instagram while he only followed back his best friend and pretty little things (for a day or so)—part of the fraction who got paid in, who never struggled for it.
Sure, you hadn’t really struggled either—but hypocrisy was only allowed to one and you chose to take your chance.
You didn’t…despise him, the man that Gojo Satoru stood out to be, but lords, you hated the concept around it.
The loud cackle at the back of each lecture—the proxies and his fan girls, you hated it all.
More so, you hated just how enamored your dad was—after all, it was Gojo Satoru that had won the trophies and the plaques—Satoru Gojo that was a Power Player.
But the credit wasn’t to be forgotten for you too—dabbling in all that was academic, if the second half of your dad’s office as the dean were filled with Satoru’s achievements, the first half was yours.
Two sides of the same coin.
———
Your eyes never left your dad for a second, “you can’t possibly expect that out of Me dad,” the whine wasn’t subtle, nor the snicker that gojo let out at your words and outlet—earning a hard glare.
And to all the pampering and spoiling your father had to offer, it all failed when it came down to the pride and prestige of the university.
“It’s non-negotiable y/n,” the sleek brown in his room shone that afternoon, polished—every groove, every rounded corner—almost a story to behold.
“Yeah! Tell her Mr.Dean,” another snicker- another glare, your father sighed in his dismay.
“You,” your father glared at him, “need to find a way to shove it in your schedule as well—you’re both the elected representatives.”
To end with all whines and groans.
“I have no idea how but I need you two to find a presence of mind and perform your best in curating an experience at the fest. Dismissed.”
A sharp inhale, yours and the roll of Satoru’s eyes, your dad was aware how interesting an evening and a fest in general he would be witnessing.
———
You’d known Gojo Satoru for 3 years now, spending the last together at the University, standing as the President of Student Council—all against  Gojo’s constant “nepotism” comments while he stood as the Captain of the Football Team—against your criticism as well.
A certain peak in the way you two governed your particular fields independently but, together?
Well.
Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t always that you both disliked each other but, you couldn’t exactly deny the certain distaste the day you’d set eyes on him…
-
~First Year~
“Dad, please, make sure that no one knows that you and I are, at all related,” a chuckle your father let out, “of course darling, but don’t get prissy when I don’t let you out with attendance matters  and all,”
Another chuckle shared, nothing too serious.
“I’ve heard Gojo Satoru will be joining this year too?”
An innocent question, curious is all you were—anyone would be, one of the best the country had seen in years.
Your father nodded slowly, “just so happens to be true, stay in check though, don’t want messing with people like that,”
It was evident, the wary tone that your father had acquired over the years, dealing with all that was the ego of such students, who stood tall with the heap of money that belonged to their daddies.
A slow nod you passed too—your father smiled, you were a smart girl after all.
But fate was decided and what had to happen would happen for sure.
Because you swore to maintain the secret, you weren’t to be even found to have the slightest relation of blood with the Dean — but then whatever could you do when you step out blindly, bumping right into the guy you wanted not to.
A hiss and a curse—“the fuck? Watch where you’re going,” he mumbled-eyes boring into yours, and then simultaneously, at the car.
Anger that flashed down right—“watch your damn language,” unironically, you muttered—something he’d never let you live down.
“Woah there princess, what are you on? Some patrol duty round here-?” The smirk was infuriating, his disheveled hair all the more—especially when he continued messing it up all the more.
A scoff, yours—“Mind your own business,” a shove passed and an attempt to move away—“Y/n L/n?” He held your campus manual.
The certain way your name rolled off his tongue, it caught your attention—“ya dropped this,”
A smirk adored his face as he handed back to you the campus manual, of course it wasn’t anything you required but to solace your father, there you held it.
A cramped “Whatever,” you let out, snatching the booklet from his hands quick—wanting nothing more to do with the stranger that you’d bumped into.
Just as you walked away though, “L/n huh?” The words, his, that you knew would cause you issues.
-
“He’s Satoru Gojo?” Your surprise lay hidden under the music that boomed all too loud—watching closely the white haired boy you’d bumped into a couple days ago.
“Yeah? You didn’t know?” The grin on your now best friend, and then just-roommates-friend offered little help.
Of course you hadn’t, and now you wish you didn’t still.
It was true you’d spotted him all so much over the past few days, and the people that followed him and the rumors still—unaware to why and how.
But now, with all the pieces in your hand you wanted to hide away—especially when those blue eyes stared right back—with a grin he trampled over.
“Oi! L/n right? We met at the first day?”
You cringed at how loud he spoke—so very sure that absolutely everyone could hear him, all over the booming music.
A subtle nod you passed, trying to get away from the spotlight he’d casually thrown round you.
“Your dad’s the Dean right?”
Silence- literally, just as he said that, the music system paused too—you wanted to curse your luck.
Widened eyes—star-struck stares from all those adored Gojo, amused ones at you from everyone who bothered to think.
You’d have considered lying—unless Satoru Gojo hadn’t chosen to be a dick about it, “You guys have the same last names so I thought- and then, the other when we bumped into each other- remember?” He chuckled as a couple of girls let out audible gasps, envious that you had already touched him so.
Before opportunity even lay still, he continued, “so I thought, because frankly either you’re his daughter or…you know, mistress—but that I doubt,” you wanted to punch away the grin he held, the snicker and the secrets he dropped out like flies.
So while you stood there, waiting for the ostracism—Gojo only giggled, “Don’t worry though, you’re fine, got more of your mom’s genes right?”
Fuming, you stood there—red that masked your vision—“excuse you?” A brow remained cocked, Gojo’s facial expression never once changed—it was about to.
“You’re one to talk about dads huh? Your daddy donated in just about  how much into your esteemed football team huh? To get you selected?”
Satoru wasn’t new to comments such, in fact that’s what he’d built his career over but just the way you said it—just the way your angry face stared back at him—he found you annoying, adorably so.
That night, Satoru’s fan following increased by a decent thousand or so, people became aware of you and maybe, you realized, being the Dean’s daughter wouldn’t be that bad a fact.
But all the more, Gojo and you formed a sudden bond still, dislike and nothing less masking the two of you whenever the other was mentioned.
A farce? Maybe—but you were easily, in too deep to stop now.
Often nights you spent, thinking how the two of you could be friends—but huge egos that clashed in, something told you it wouldn’t happen all so easily.
-
The following week and there on were interesting—you joked all week that you’d blocked Gojo, you never did.
Gojo swore he’d have you black-listed for being so audacious—he never did.
When the huge messaging group—meant to be dead in a day—was formed, you both ended up saving each other’s number discreetly, never to approach it again, at least for a while.
And that was just how it went on “he annoys me so much,” and “she annoys me so much,” but little by little, small steps in the dark—you both were each other’s biggest cheerleaders still- applauding each other louder than anybody else.
———
Hands clutching onto your notepad you continued jotting down the points—fingers working fast so as not to let a single bright thought escape you.
The event was huge—the University’s 150th Anniversary—perfect, grand, extravagant—to be organized partially, by you.
There was time, plenty—absolutely 1 months before the panic would settle in, 2 before it would be over.
But seconds were quick—hasty in the way they changed into minutes, hours to come and days passed by, never realized.
A finger raised to push your spects up the bridge of your nose—you sighed, eyes landing on the form in front of you—mouth ajar and his sunglasses fixated in his hair, another piece of candy tossed up high before he caught it in his mouth.
A frustrated sigh you let out—“can you please sit straight and help?”
His eyes bore into yours- cerulean, they were pretty, almost prettier than the whole of him, you hated it.
“Isn’t it your job?” A grin he passed, a clench of your jaw was all you could—“we’re in this together, don’t give me that bullshit,”
Another grin, “talk to me when you need booze,”
“You don’t even drink,” the words fell out your mouth all so quick, hesitant you looked at him—“how do you know?” It was an amused smirk that he held, it annoyed you how the man in front seemingly only talked in three supposed emotions.
A small break, “well, I uh- noticed through the parties,” it was true, you did notice through the parties—it was hard not to, since you didn’t drink—you couldn’t be all so sure about the rest.
“You notice me at parties? You notice me at all?” Urges inside you that had to be controlled, such a perfectly punchable face Satoru Gojo held—“help me work on this damn idea,” you mumbled, ignoring all of what he wanted to discuss.
A roll of his eye and yours—“not gonna do it so easily,”
A huff you let out.
Frustration at peak.
“Actually,” your voice was quieter than you expected it to be, “wouldn’t it be better if you were there to advise us? Me? You’ve been organizing parties for so long and,” your face turned towards him—smile never faltering at his disgusted expression—he knew what you were doing, he wasn’t new to sugar coating after all, “I would love learning from the best.”
Jaw clenched, hands sauntered over to the back of your chair—most would consider it an action of endearment, you knew better.
“I would beg to differ Ms. Daddy’s princess,” Your blood boiled at his ignorance—sure, he was Satoru Gojo—but nothing gave him the right to act superior when he stood at his father’s money itself.
Hell, all he was meant to be was just a batchmate, captain of a stupid team that barely mattered—you?
Sure, a well suited empire would never land on your back, nor a fortune as his until you’d worked half your life into it— but you were better, you knew it. Denial onto his privilege to negate the Authorities could’ve never been acceptable by you.
your eyes remained stuck onto the ground —defiant—“well, i suppose it would only be for the best,” stubborn you sat and so did he—stuck in between the thickening tension.
“The best,” his voice exasperated, “would be for someone like you to sit back down and do as you’re told.”
Mouth hanging just in the slightest, you dared not to meet his face—focusing on the little stains and creases you’d administered on your sneakers—eyes sneaking onto his pair, perfect, as expected.
“That’s a little rich, coming from you—”
“—and this is the best they’ve found? You? To help me huh?”
Bigoted. Nose flared, curses at the tip of your tongue and you could do nothing as he further scoffed, “getting a privileged bitch to do my job, now they know my worth huh?”
“Excuse you?” Shaky, you sat—words spilling out before you could stop it—“your worth? Absolutely as nothing, but a spoiled man-baby who cannot deal with things maturely?”
Confusion marked his face—of course he would be, all so blind to the simple generosity that gets offered to him—all so he can kick a ball.
“The event is in 2 months sir,” address regained to the topic, you spoke flatly, “I would well appreciate that you helped us in the organization of said fest—if not, well, it would be a sheer pity that the entire football team would have to suffer,”
And there lay your ultimatum, naked and threatening—and he knew it was all but empty.
“L/n,” Gojo coughed—not quite sure, uneasy evidently, with the tension that hung lose in the atmosphere—“You maybe influential in your own ways on the campus but-”
“-but I’m just a student here, as you are,” you looked directly at Gojo now, “And to adhere to rules is the basic of most authoritative environments. So I suppose, you’ll be all the more pliant in helping us plan the fest and encouraging our juniors to help us out.”
Defiant—squinted eyes of Gojo simply stared blankly—“Alright,” he muttered.
“If help is what you want, that’s what you’ll get.”
And the deal was settled—to your compromise and his.
-
A week had passed since—the discomfort only grew.
“What the fuck? You’re speeding rumours now?” Rough were the words that greeted you first the moment the two of you entered the study you currently sat in—a half shrug you passed him, “I would need help and rather than begging you for it, why not just keep you as my assistant?”
“Excuse you?” His tone, bewildered as he shut the door behind the two of you—“Your assistant?” He barked out a laugh—“They really are making sheer idiots now huh?”
“Says daddy’s little prince who couldn’t use his academics to get in like everyone else,”
A scoff he passed—“How very original, at least my daddy has the power and how is yours, at all better?” he let his words trail off, a smirk on his lips as he pulled a chair to lounge in, and well, all cases be true, his dad probably had more money than you could imagine.
The certain charm of Gojos, after all.
“Don’t gotta flex your daddy’s sex work like that buddy,” you muttered, pulling a chair across him—peculiar you found it that he didn’t do so much as throw a fit in objection to the forced responsibility.
“Just giving inspiration baby,” he drew out—he winked, phone pulled out fast as he typed, you sat by forgotten.
A roll of your eyes—“Help me at least,”
Silence- you sighed.
“You’re supposed to help,” again, the very same cold air met you—“Gojo,”
“Nope.”
A sharp intake of breath and you stared at him, had it not been for the pretty face he had you’d have punched him long ago—a second too long you stared however, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,”
Another eye roll—“Just fucking help me,”
“Ain’t gotta princess,” he finally looked up, “I’m here to advise you right?”
An inhale, exhale—biting down on your teeth you nodded, “Of course,” you muttered—which was what had led you to the current situation, tired, exasperated and annoyed.
An hour and a half, slow—very, spent staring a few times at the blank paper and then the ceiling, often Satoru Gojo and then his phone; a couple ideas popped by here and there, all useless—you knew that.
“You know,” you spoke carefully, “As someone who’s helping you bunk without losing attendance, you should really really be thankful,”
“A bouquet will be present in your dorm tonight doll,” not a single glance spared still—it was frustrating simply to sit such.
A sharp exhale you let out, head hung back—this was a stupid idea.
“You know what?” Chair pushed back, you stood up—“I’ll manage,” fingers clutched hard onto your notepad—it hurt when he didn’t do so much as even shrug as you moved towards the door.
Silence, as you turned the handle of the door to leave—not even a look from him.
You despised him.
———
#6942619412: Yo [11:54 p.m.]
Your eyes narrowed at the sudden text that popped up—ignorance enveloped you still, eyes focused onto the book of applied physics in front of you—regret boring into you as you tried your best to drill the concepts into you, preparing yourself for the soon-to-end semester exams.
#6942619412: busy? [11:56 p.m.]
You ignored still, creeped a little at the protrusion—not enough to let your book down—
#6942619412: idc [11:58 p.mp]
#6942619412: show me your plans [11:58 p.m.]
Face scrunched in annoyance, you stared at your screen—the periodic chimes of notification and the switch from the dull background to immediate light up—Satoru Gojo was somehow a master at infuriating you.
However, as stubborn as lay, you were no better—‘ignorance is bliss’ they said, and you were all too prepared to test it out.
#6942619412: bro wtf. Reply. [12:03 a.m.]
You noted mentally, the time gap between his texts—a sly smile adorning your face. Something in you screamed to not do it—to not go against Satoru Gojo such—the certain something fell to deaf ears as a shit-eating grin you beheld, typing your words in.
You: it’s pathetic of you to message like this [12:03 a.m.]
You: desperate? [12:03 a.m.]
A minute went by, then another—you sighed.
It was perhaps, a bad idea— chime!!
#6942619412: it’s needy of you to message back [12:04 a.m.]
#6942619412: you desperate? [12:04 a.m.]
A smirk—yours, a smirk—his.
You: you realize the first text of your day is to me? [12:04 a.m.]
#6942619412: you realize you’re taking note of how my day goes? [12:05 a.m.]
You: because you decided to bother me in mine—get to whatever you were saying [12:05 a.m.]
#6942619412: there there princess—I demand respect and send me your ideas- or better still I’ll come over to your dorm [12:06 a.m.]
Your eyes remained fixed at the screen; ‘come at your dorm’? Was he stupid?
You: there’s no need to come here gojo. I’ll send you everything right now.
You waited, patiently, however, ever so cruel—time was always slow, especially when waiting onto someone. 5 minutes grudged slow- you were afraid that he would actually show up. Would he?
No, of course not— even for him this was absurd, given the security and the time at night—he was probably asleep—
Knock.
A twist of your window pane’s handle- a thud of your heart and widened set of eyes.
Another knock and you were at your feet, stupidly, opening the window—widening it to welcome Satoru Gojo is your room—scandalous.
A smirk he held, form towering  yours by a decent couple inches, “Neat room,” he whistled as he stood awkward, unsure onto whether to place himself until he found your study—making himself comfortable on the spot you just sat.
“Applied physics?” Curiosity laced his voice and a shrug you responded with — “So what?” You muttered, reaching in to close the book—he certainly took note of the tiredness your voice held.
“So you’re an idiot—it’s a tough field.”
Another shrug—“Gets me going and nothing could’ve sucked more than chemistry so,”
A snort he lay bare—only then did you realize how quiet it was, soft breaths, the new morning dancing about the timelines—your gaze on his, and his on yours. How so eccentric—not.
“You couldn’t deal with chemistry? Gotta be dumb or some shit,”
You scoffed—knowing where he was leading it, “do we really need me to redo the whole ‘got in because of your dad’ shit here?”
He grinned wide—and just then you noticed the perfect set of teeth—the ones you’d hoped to punch and break some day, “I think I’d wanna skip it tonight baby,”
“Don’t call me that,”
“Prissy, eh?”
A scrunch of your face, a wink his.
“Why, and dare I ask, how, did you get here?” Brows raised, expression amused as he paced about your room—taking it in, familiarizing himself.
“Don’t worry onto that doll, just show me your ideas,”
Your eye twitched, it was simply alien to you—the feeling of being treated normal by him. By Satoru Gojo- reality set in straight Every Time you realized that something in you, even if small, craved his attention, his validation.
Maybe that was why you were hurt—when he’d ignored you initially, when he’d shove you in the hall without a thought spared—when his gaze was all so disrespectful Everytime you approached Him.
Maybe it was just the social construct of it all.
Maybe it was something else.
So surprise was bound to grip you hard— he wanted your ideas?
“Well?” Fidgety, you noted his actions to be—nervous? You wouldn’t be sure.
“Why?”
A shrug, half hearted, “I heard stuff on you,” and now your interest sat piqued, “They say you’re as good as me when it comes down to getting shit done,” a wink—you gagged internally at his words- his charm?
Not quite so.
“You’ve been snooping around since the past week? Got you that hooked?” A smirk you channeled, unsure still- suspicious more so.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he muttered—his eyes were quicker, quicker that yours, cerulean, I suppose something to do with the color of them—all too pretty to have one care about anything besides themselves.
“I’ve heard of your accomplishments beforehand, you know it—you just weren’t so important and most of the time I was trying to stay off your radar,” his face panned towards the shelf you kept full of books—“but you did interest me,”
A scoff let’s your lips, “Anything with a vagina and boobs will interest you,”
“Hey now-” and for a second he seemed offended, not that you cared, “don’t forget about the ass—and please, I sincerely accept dicks too.” And just at that you chuckled slightly—a small win he deemed it, “man-whore,” you muttered past him- closing your books and grabbing onto the notepad from before.
“Here,” you handed it over— a sudden feeling of embarrassment washing over—after all, as much of a jerk he was, Satoru Gojo sincerely was experienced and amazing at what he did.
Lips pursed, you stared as he read through the stuff- “I know it’s all too-” a hand raised to quieten you, he continued reading—quick at that too.
It took him a minute or so, to go through each of the 4 pages you’d jotted down—“Not bad,” you nodded, “not the best,” you bit your tongue.
“I uh- i know it’s a little extravagant?”
“Yeah,” he chuckled, “or more so, it’s not very realistic? You have steps planned out and …you know, it’s supposed to be done by humans not machines,”
Your eyes raised in understanding, you weren’t too sure, but just enough.
“Put yourself into it—you’re cool you know that?,” eyes squinted, you watched him carefully- not a word let out.
“Just a little…uptight, learn to let go,”
“how do I…?”
He grinned, “have fun figuring that out—the ideas were cool, gotta go now doll,” you blinked once, twice, and without a word he was gone—you let him. However could you even ever stop him?
And you knew well, the rumbling in your room was sure to get your father awake.
A click on the lock—you closed the window behind him—swift was the way he came about, annoying, the way he left. And yet you still stood alone in the room, pacing about with a dorkish smile.
And only five minutes after he’d left, after the daze was gone—you noticed the bouquet of jasmines on your bedside—huh.
Certainly understood the charm now—especially when your eyes focused onto your phone right before closing.
#6942619412: you’re actually cute when you’re not frowning yk? [1:05 a.m.]
You went to sleep.
———
~Three weeks before the Fest~
“I’d say it’s coming along amazing,” another fruit roll up popped into his mouth—the fifth packet in last three hours, you were only surprised how he wasn’t sick of them yet.
A nod you passed—“but they’re slow-”
“-because they’re people, they are bound to be slow,”
Another nod.
There was something that Satoru Gojo did help you with, and there was something you’d helped him with as well—his eyes panned onto the elaborate list of numbers he’d gathered, oh how you’d spun the man, Satoru ‘never gonna help nobody’ Gojo into your actual assistant.
“Tell me though, when will you order the booze?”
“It’s an official thing- how can you expect booze to be there?” A ridiculed laugh met you—“ever heard of sneaking shit in princess?”
Of course you had, given that Satoru Gojo snuck himself into your room almost every night, uninvited—so far as to snickering when you squeaked out lies to your father about talking to your friends.
“Shut up, there will be no beverage,” he chuckled at your formal tone, beverage, “you and I, or anyone can get expelled for that—it happened last year,”
“You’re your daddy’s only princess though,”
“And you’re not,” a deadpan from you shut him up quick—“dad’s gonna be mad if he finds it, I won’t be expelled but you might, especially given your record and everything—and yes that means your captaincy and everything too,”
A month ago, the nervousness on his face would’ve made you chuckle—giddy maybe but now it only troubled you for him—hours spent on the floor of your bedroom had opened up conversations after all.
“But you’ll save me right?”
He stared at you; you stared back, you noted the closeness.
There was no reply to be offered—but it did ruin the small moment to hear the causal, “Satoru~” from the lips of her, Mei Mei, long time family friend of his and an equatable annoyance to Satoru Gojo.
Both of your faces whipped to meet hers, yours scorned while his broke into a grin—“Oi!” He chuckled—arms spreading out to greet her, hug her.
“Y/n,” she greeted you too, a smile you passed back—part of your council members after all—“how’s the planning going?”
“Fantastic,” tight lipped you muttered—“fabulous,” she grinned, “mind if I steal Toru’ for a second?”
You mentally gagged at her—‘steal Toru for a second’—except those seconds never really were seconds, rather hours and to your utter annoyance, Gojo never add moves to counter it.
“Of course!” And just like that, gone, daily.
A sigh you let out, staring at the preparations—“why’d you let them walk over you all the time?” A deep voice met you, “Suguru?”
A short smile, a short breath of cigarettes met you—in the best way, “Good day to you too,” he grinned, patting the seat beside him, eyes stuck on his best friend and his rendezvous partner.
“You as , and what exactly do you suppose I do? Stop them?”
“He’s your assistant, ain’t he?”
“Yes but-”
“Am I seeing you finally turn into a push-over, like all the other girls when it comes to him?” All in good humor he spoke, but mostly because it was true.
You were bending your walls for a certain someone—it didn’t feel right.
“You think I shouldn’t?”
“I think you should only if this lasts after the rest as well,”
“Will it?”
A pause, a shrug, “I don’t know, ask him.”
You stared at him—“why are you two the legitimate same at advices? And equally bad?” A laugh met you—“go on, ask him—because as of now, Mei Mei seems to have done what she wanted,”
“Huh?”
A look at him and then at them, your heart sank—he was kissing her, your heart sank more, why were you so bothered by it?
A nervous chuckle you passed to Suguru, an empathetic one he did, “it’s fine,”
“Yeah.”
———
It wasn’t fine, hell it was far from fine—especially when you saw them together there on, all the time.
3 weeks, dates here and there—she was around you all the time, and him, it was infuriating in all aspects of the word.
“Who’re you going with?”  Almost everyday he questioned, and you never had an answer because somehow, just something in you had made you reject every proposal—something in you supposed that you two would go together.
You were the organizers—but then, it was no rule.
And even if it was, Satoru Gojo wasn’t big on rules.
-
“Ready?” Suguru grinned, last minute date that you’d found—all so grateful that you stood.
A small nod with a smile you passed—“how do I look?”
“Gorgeous,” another smile, wider—eyes however, they remained stuck onto Gojo.
“It’s not about him tonight doll,”
“It’s never about him,” you mumbled—melancholy—ironic onto how the entire fest that you’d built was based off of youth and what not.
But it was about him, everything was about him- especially in the way your dress, bought just for the occasion was the same cerulean, your hair was braided just how he once mentioned liking, you were wearing the perfume he bought you for you.
Everything.
And you despised all of this everything while having nothing.
“Yo! Y/n,” you paused, Suguru did too—his smirk widening, as did Mei Mei’s, Satoru walked- sauntered over.
“Don’t you look hot?” The grin was wide, your nose scrunched in disgust, “you’re reeking of alcohol,” 
He was—of course he was, right after you’d advised him not to.
“Chill, nobody’s gonna know-”
“-we have to meet my dad in 15 minutes.”
“…oh.”
“Well anyways, I see you came with Suguru? You’ve been getting close?”
Your eye twitched—so he did see it—“yeah he’s cool, and helpful, unlike you,”
A giggle, “I have a life outside of you, remember?” Your blood boiled—“of course you do, enjoy it.”
A sharp turn you made, lips bitten, unsure, uncertain—“Honestly though, if I weren’t with Mei tonight I’d actually fuck ya “
Your jaw clenched at the audacity—the other two, Suguru and Mei Mei long disappeared as you flared daggers into Satoru’s soul.
“Can you take one thing seriously? You- you bloody idiot I can’t even-” you whipped around to face him again—eyes boring into his.
Satoru, even in his drunken state knew it would last long, the lecture, a hand pulled you in very quick, a corner, secluded.
“Stop fucking shouting,” slurred his words, they lay bare.
“What do you want me to do then? You- you- I- ugh.” You paused, hard breaths let out—“you’re so fucking annoying.”
“Annoying? You’re the one screaming woman,” the small smirk that he adored annoyed you all the more so.
“Excuse you? I’m annoying?” And at that moment, you let go, “I’m annoying after you spent three weeks fucking with Mei Mei? I’m annoying after you’re the one acting irresponsible? I’m annoying after you ended up treating me like all your others girls? I’m annoying after- after you just chose to walk all over me- I’m annoy- mmph!”
Words lay interrupted quick, a rough hand reeled you in while the other held your head, the kiss was soft, passionate of one would call it, sloppy in the way his lips attached to yours, hungry.
And amusingly, unlike all things Gojo, this did not feel wrong.
But it wouldn’t help your emotions being all over the place—“what the fuck?” You asked, the moment he pulled away—“was it that bad?” An amused chuckle rolled off his lips.
“No? You can’t do this- we can’t just kiss- I-”
“-okay, then take it back,” and just like that, he pulled you in again, lips attaching once more, hands exploring each other easy, slow gasps of breath as you pushed him away this time.
“N-no you- I don’t- what? You take it back,” and almost as if his alcohol was on your mind too, you pulled him in this time—a small peck, harsh, Satoru loved it all the same.
Frustrated you pulled away, grinning his hand held your wrist—“don’t go,” he mumbled, your face contorted into the expression which screamed your annoyance.
“Don’t go? Fuck you Gojo. Fuck you and your damn ego and the audacity you have,” your breaths were shallow, the two stood so close.
“Don’t kiss me when you’re with someone else—you might be a whore but-”
“It was for you,” another mumble, quieter, “to get you jealous and I think it worked?”
A pause.
“And The alcohol?” You whispered—he loved it though, the way you prioritised the reputation above him—somehow you humanised him, “only I’ve drunk it, no one else—to…get your attention,”
“But you never drink…”
“And I never fucked Mei either, or kissed her…or anyone since you,”
“That’s supposed to make me feel special?” It did, but you were done for the day.
“I think so…?”
You blink, once, twice and instead of the third that Satoru expected a sharp slap landed on his face.
“You’re very fucking dumb,” while one hand clutched the cheek he’d been hit at, the other still held your hand, pulling you closer when he heard your choked words—eyes widening at the wetness in your eyes.
“L/n…” a sigh, “fuck I’m- fuck.” He held you close, unnatural to your relation, you let yourself be held.
————
“Sorry?”
You glared at him, the Music blared behind you loud— the both of you stood outside your father’s office, “we’ll deal with that later.”
A slight nod, Satoru was glad you even agreed to talk to him, Satoru was glad you even looked at him—Satoru was simply glad you were standing beside him.
A knock, two more, you walked inside—Satoru, as advised by you stood outside—your father would know of course, instantly.
The room seemed a breath of freshness as you walked, away from the stench that Satoru held, “where’s Gojo?” You were prepared for the question.
“Do you like the fest?” You father was prepared for the dodge—he hummed, “you both did good together, as I supposed,” you hummed.
“He won’t be coming?”
“He’s busy,” you lied through your teeth, “some kids snuck in alcohol, he’s dealing with it,” you were sure you caught your father’s smirk—“that would be highly…inappropriate,”
You bit the inside of your cheek, “of course, we’ll see to it that they’re punished well,”
Your father hummed again, “having a good time?”
“Wonderful,” your father grinned, “well, you can go then but…maybe not today but I do hope meet your assistant soon after, kind of tired of seeing him sneak in through the windows,”
“Dad?!”
“What? You’re grown up and I’ve seen the potential and I kind of think opposites do attract, and you proved me right so,”
Idiots, all around you.
———
“You think it’s funny?” The music had hours ago died down, your eyes remained stuck on the man between your legs, “m’ sorry,” slurred words.
Drunk he sat there.
Annoyed, you.
“You could’ve been expelled,” your words, they came out hushed—“but you saved me right?” He held the infuriating grin all the same, adorable.
“That’s not fucking- what are you doing?”
And the confusion was right to be so, what was he doing? Dragged and hefty steps, crawled towards you slow, a lanky arm pulled beside your shoulder, finger caressing your jaw.
“Is this not the part we kiss?” 
You pause, and you stare—the same blue eyes that you live, the same blue that you adore stare back at you—that you’ve found to be staring at Mei Mei too.
“Go and kiss Mei Mei why don’t’ cha?” 
Silence, again—you were you’d be driven crazy if he didn’t catch on now—but he did.
“You’re jealous?” And oh boy, fuck you were—was it not obvious? 
“Of you and her? Please,”
A hum, small, his hand lingered on your jaw—“I was pretty jealous,”
“You told me,”
“No I didn’t,” his words were quick, eyes focused on yours, “I said I wanted your attention—I didn’t tell you how jealous I was, why I was jealous and fuck- I never told you anything at all,”
A pause, heavy—“what is there to tell-”
“-that I would break Suguru’s teeth twice if he ever took you on a date, that I would bite off of the flesh of every guy who’s liked you besides me, that I would lose everything for you.”
Defiant, true—your heart raced.
“You’re drunk,”
“What are drunk words if not sober thoughts?”
You stared at him, as did he—you were confused, he wasn’t, “I want to kiss you right now,” a murmur, yours, “it would be against everything I’ve ever-”
“-fuck, angel, I just want to please you, please let me kiss you,” 
A lean in, a lean away—both yours, “I- why? What? After everything?”
A hefty silence, “can we not discuss all that later? I just, fuck I wanna taste you so bad,”
And so, you let him. 
“Go slow,” you muttered, pulling him in, fingers clutching the collar of his shirt—“why, you inexperienced?” The shit-eating grin was huge, you loved it. 
“Do it, or I won’t let ya,”
And so, it was slow—perfect, you waited as he leaned in, sloppy as it was, wet—sweet.
“Fuck you’re so perfect,” you heard him murmur, your hand reaching to pull at his locks, a whimper sounded through the room—ah, he was perfect it seemed.
And so, it was slow—perfect, you waited as he leaned in, sloppy as it was, wet—sweet.
“Fuck you’re so perfect,” you heard him murmur, your hand reaching to pull at his locks, a whimper sounded through the room—ah, he was perfect it seemed.
Gojo Satoru already sat drunk but it was gradual the way he drank in your scent, your sweetness, the whole of you—feather light in the way your nose touched his.
It felt natural in the way his hand travelled upon your form, yours his—his stuck onto your waist while yours rubbed circles on his thigh.
“Wanna touch you,” a small murmur, his—you smiled at him, “what’s the magic word Satoru?”
His eyes widened in the way that was the first time you’d taken his first name—he loved the way it fell off yours lips, “please,” he uttered out, “please please—wanna, fuck, please wanna touch you,”
“Where?”
And almost as if a switch, you watched as Satoru quietened entirely- “everywhere,”
“On your knees for me,” Satoru scrambled to his feet under the command, eager to please, eager to be yours—“kiss me everywhere Satoru.”
And he did, slow, rapid—it felt like nothing, but it did feel like everything in that moment—to be his, to have his touch.
The kisses, feather-light, began at the tip of your toes, trailing upwards slow—lingering past your ankle to your calves, Satoru Gojo wasn’t kissing for your pleasure, but his own.
It was almost devouring.
Slight moans you let out, gasps, at the way his hands grasped you, hungry—as they held you close, his palm massaging the supple flesh of your thighs.
You weren’t sure aure how long you let him be there, how long you’d been there entirely—the moment was perfect, the music outside has died away—you wanted more.
“Get up,” you muttered- to no avail, “Satoru,” again nothing, sloppy kisses remained pressed to your thighs—so close that he was, your breath hitched.
A hand reached down to pull at his hair—a slight hiss as you jolted his face away from yourself, he let himself be moved—“get up,”
Quickly, eagerly, there he was beside you—unsure, he wanted to kiss you right there, he wanted to touch you, explore you, worship you.
“Pull your pants down, need to touch you,”
His lips parted at that, a slow smile, “you’re eager-”
“-did I tell you to talk back?”
And after that, he didn’t. Not once, not for a good time—choosing simply to focus on the way you slipped between his legs, fingers grasping onto his thighs, massaging them, holding them for support—his eyes stared at you hungrily, yours, at the bulge in his boxers.
Satoru hissed at the way you palmed his bulge- he should’ve known, of course, of course you weren’t there to please him, no. You were there to simply remind him that it was you eventually who held the cards, you who could twist him around, you who’s make him cry in pleasure.
You grinned at the little noises he made, shameless in the way you played with him, nudging at his tip, “you’re already leaking Satoru,” you giggled, “kissing gets you so bricked huh?”
And in response satoru could only groan while You simply chose to smirk, squeezing his dick as you felt it slowly hardening between your hands.
You watched as his cock twitched in his pants- begging to be touched & you couldn’t help but slightly drool at the sight, you’d thought of it yourself.
His dick print showed off the girth and the length- and internally you weren’t sure how you’d even manage—it only made you wanna push him more.
It was tempting—to pull his pants down, to see it, you wanted to suck on it already but there was simply a lesson to be taught and Satoru wouldn’t listen any other way.
You looked up at satoru to meet his eyes, eyes threatening to shut, breathing was heavy and his face flushed a light shade of pink.
“Pull them down,” he muttered, “suck already,”
“I don’t think bad boys like you get to order around love,”
You watched the way his eyes drooped, fighting all of himself to listen to you, “bad? I only wanted you- even saved your damn fest- hey!”
You scowled as you landed another slap at his inner thigh, eliciting a similar reaction—“you don’t talk when I do,”
A scoff from him and another sharp slap—“you’ll get my lips when you apologise sincerely,”
“Ain’t no fuckin- ngh!!” It was wonderful just simply Satoru Gojo got worked up, especially when your nails were digging into his thighs and the other hand slyly rubbed his bulge.
“Awh, Toru’” your grin remained undeniable, loving the control that you held, “wouldn’t it be nice if I wrapped my lips round there hm? But only good boys get that so…”
“Stop actin’ like you’re- fuck, like you’re in charge here,” you giggled again as his head lolled, so pretty- “suck it already- please,”
Murmurs, his voice was low and whiny—“you’re a cute beggar Toru’ but mm’fraid that’s no apology,” but all to no avail, you cocked your brows as he rut his hips into the air.
“Oh?” The single monotonous reply sent shiver down Satoru’s spine- “wait I- I’m sor- ah!” You smirked–holding his cock as you wrapped your lips around his clothed tip. Sucking on it so messily and sloppily. Satoru gasped, surprised at you pulling something like this, something so vile, so nasty.
But he liked it anyways.
You were drenching his pants with your saliva, his head thrown back as you stopped sucking on his tip and started licking his whole length from above his pants. You looked so good underneath him, licking & sucking on his fully clothed cock–“who knew the dean’s daughter was a cock slut huh?” he breathed out, you paused your movements to look up at him once again.
“The same ones who knew-” you paused, sucking with a little pressure at his tip, earning the perfect moan from him, “that the football team captain was damn floozy who came from just touching,”
A lazy smirk rested on his lips as you said that—thighs trembling , hips rutting into air to feel more, pathetic as ever, just how you liked it.
“Satoru tch, tch, tch,” you knew your words wouldn’t have an effect and seemingly neither did your actions at the moment- “if you apologise I can simply peel these soiled boxers off you and get to business love—”
—ring!!
—ring!!
Both of yours eyes panned to your phone at the side— caller id: Mei Mei —while Satoru groaned, you smirked, “could be important eh?”
You watched his eyes narrow in confusion as you wasted no time in picking up the phone, “hi babe!” He rolled his eyes at the faux sweetness you kept.
But his eyes openly rolled further as your ministrations with your hands never came to a stop—stroking and teasing him slowly through his drenched boxers.
“Yeah I’m free to talk, what is it?” The slow strokes never stopped, his whimpers did—“free?” He mouthed the words, pouty he sat there, twitching and throbbing.
“Please love, take your time,” you giggled to the phone, causing Satoru to only push your head back as a way to remind you of his needy stature.
In all honesty, a couple minutes would’ve been ok, bearable—but it’s been a while of “mmhmm”s and “ok”s and you still weren’t done—and that, that easily the last straw.
In a flash that it was, he grabbed your phone quick, pressing it by his ear—“talk to her later-”
As he was about to pull away though, you watched him eye roll, your own hands pinned in front of you now—wonderful of how much power he did hold, and how much he let you have.
“Yes this is Toru’ and no you don’t have to know why I’m with her- you can talk later, no- what? Mei shut up- yes at the Christmas dinner ofc, yes in two weeks of course when else—what? Obviously as my girlfriend.”
And with that, the call was off.
His girlfriend?
“What-”
“-worry more about me than her,” a scoff he passed—both hands pulling you in his lap quick—“had your fun down there didn’t ya doll hm?”
A bashful nod was all you had to offer as he grinned too, a kiss pressed to the shell of your ear, “‘my turn.”
Your heart raced anyways, “no- n-no no no no, girlfriend who?”
His hands were rough in the way they groped you, squeezing your tits, fingers rolling the half-hardened nipples through the frisky material of your dress—the other one resting on your hips—“the dean’s daughter of course.”
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[tagging @romiyaro @blkkizzat @draecys @akumuprincess ]
All of this work is entirely original and my own— please refrain from copying or reposting.
Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!
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jakeshands · 1 year
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teeth
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pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader
synopsis: if you had known that talking to sunghoon at a club would lead to watching him kill the people you love, would you still talk to him?
genre: thriller (?), strangers to lovers
featuring: enhypen, yunjin, sakura, and chaewon of lsfm, yeonjun of txt, winter of aespa.
warnings: death. lots of death, murder scenes that arent graphic but still descriptive, lots of mentions of blood, attempted sexual assault, mentions of sexual assault, physical abuse, mentions of stalking, sunghoon and all of enhypen are literally murderers so… profanity, toxic relationship lol, sunghoon possessive as hell he’s crazy, sunghoon punches yeonjun a couple times, mentions of a knife. lmk if i missed anything!
word count: 18.5k
author’s note, jakehands comeback and its with an 18k psychotic murderer sunghoon fic. blame enhypen’s concept film and daphne. this is heavily unedited so please ugnore any mistakes idk if i can be bothered to read through this. also PLEASE read the warnings. please im begging you. also i call winter by her real name “minjeong” in thjs fic because…actually idk why. i just wrote it like that. u will also see many cameos of other idols that arent included in the featured and the reason for that is bcs the featured people are more Important and have dialouge! anyway. enjoy😍 and Read The Warnings.
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You weren’t a frequent partygoer. You often preferred staying at home and watching whatever videos popped up on your Youtube Recommended. You usually watch Youtube video after Youtube video before you end up passing out with your phone reaching the 20% battery warning. You found comfort in the familiarity of your Youtube algorithm. But going to clubs? That was a whole other side of the world you didn’t want to touch.
How unfortunate it was, for you, to have a friend like Huh Yunjin. She was everything you weren’t; popular, friendly, a social butterfly, and a total partygoer -- if there was a party nearby, Yunjin was there. She loved parties, she loved alcohol, and she loved making out with girls and boys. Yunjin also enjoyed dragging you to said parties.
So, there you were. Standing in a club with Yunjin to your left and a girl named Sakura to your right. You had only met her a couple of minutes ago, but you were already enjoying her company. She had big eyes, kind of like the cat you had when you were younger. Her smile was extremely pretty so it was no wonder Yunjin always tried her hardest to make Sakura smile.
Sakura was in her last year of college. Soon, thanks to Jessica Day, she’ll have a teaching degree. Sakura was fun to talk to, and Yunjin made sure to include you in any conversation she had with a new face, but you still felt awkward and out of place in a club full of drunk college students clearly having the time of their lives.
“Didn’t you hear?” Sakura exclaims next to you. She was talking to Kim Chaewon. You know of her -- softball captain, an SM Town model, and she moves through guys quicker than you expected.
“Hear what?”
“They found Jaehyun’s body,” Sakura says.
You find yourself more interested in Sakura and Chaewon’s conversation than the one Yunjin was trying to insert you in with another one of her friends named Somi. Jaehyun was the soccer team’s captain for your college. He was also in his final year, and he was getting ready to lead the soccer team to victory at the upcoming championship in a few months. Last week, Jaeyun went missing.
“They found his body?” Chaewon gasps. “Where?”
“Down by the lake,” Sakura responds.
Chaewon gasps again. This eggs Sakura on, her voice dropping and you strain to hear the words she says over the loud booming music filling the club. “He was stabbed twenty-one times,” is all you could hear Sakura say.
You stand straight and push yourself away from the wall you were leaning against. “I’m going to the bathroom,” you tell Yunjin, ducking to whisper it into her ear.
“Oh!” Her untoned blonde hair shifts as she faces you, “do you want me to come with? It’s probably better if I come with --”
“I’ll be okay.”
Yunjin narrows her eyes. “Are you sure? You do know about the recent murders, right?”
You give Yunjin a smile. “I’ll be okay.”
Yunjin purses her lips. “Call me if you get into any trouble, okay?”
You roll your eyes and back away from Yunjin and her little group of friends. “Okay, mom.”
You push your way through the crowded dance floor to reach the other side of the club. Yunjin was telling you all about this club on the ride over. It was a popular club, usually filled up to its maximum capacity fifteen minutes after the club’s doors opened. You could attest to that statement as the line you saw when you arrived at the club was already pretty long.
Since the club was a popular hotspot for young adults, every face you saw was a familiar face. People like Choi Yeonjun and Hwang Hyunjin, two of the most popular dancers on your campus, had taken over the dance floor. Girls and guys flocked to the pair of them like magnets and as you watched them move effortlessly on the dance floor, you couldn’t help but wonder if they were exhausted.
Then, in the corner of the club, tucked away in a booth with cocktails in hand, sat Yuna and Lia, their eyes peering out into the crowded club and giggling as they conversed with each other in between taking sips of their drinks. They were clearly gossiping as their eyes focused on Mark Lee flirting with Choi Yena.
You duck into the hallway leading you to the bathroom. Here, it was less crowded and the music sounded further away. You could finally hear yourself breathe, and you could hear your footsteps. Pushing open the door to the female’s bathroom, you’re met with the sight of a small line beginning to form.
You smile at the girls in front of you and take your place beside them, resting on the wall beside the hand dryer. Fishing out your phone, you text Yunjin to let her know you reached the bathroom safely, before switching over to Candy Crush.
You’re able to get to a stall in no time, and as you exit the stall, feeling a bit lighter, you’re shoved to the side as a girl with her hand covering her mouth and her friends all rush into the stall. The sound of retching echoes around the bathroom. You step up to the sink and wash your hands when someone nudges your shoulder.
“Here,” Bae Sumin hands you her mascara. She’s friends with Yunjin, that’s how you know her. “You should probably retouch your mascara. Have you been wiping your eyes?”
You look in the mirror. Your mascara was slightly smudged and you smile at Sumin. “Oh, I didn’t realize.”
Sumin smiles. “Girls help girls.”
You hand Sumin back her mascara after touching up your eyelashes and you exit the bathroom, adjusting the length of your black cocktail dress so it covers more of your thighs when you bump into something hard.
You squeak and stumble back, raising your head to see a person standing in front of you. His eyes are dark and his face is hardened. Not a single emotion escapes from the male figure in front of you and your stomach drops. There’s a sinister aura clouding him and your heartbeat quickens. “S-sorry,” you stutter meekly, your eyes dropping to your feet.
“It’s okay,” his voice is warm. It contrasts his appearance; icy face, black clothes, and eyes that raise goosebumps. “You should look where you’re going next time. Especially in a club like this.”
You glance up and smile at the male in front of you. “I’ll remember that.”
“I should probably apologize as well,” the male says after some thought, “I’m in a bit of a rush so I didn’t see you. So, sorry, are you okay?”
Instead of your heart dropping to your gut, it begins to flutter.
Your cheeks redden. “Oh. I’m okay. Seriously. And you don’t need to apologize!”
There’s a whisper of a smile on the male’s face. “Alright. Enjoy the rest of your night, and stay safe.”
Your eyes follow the male as he rushes past you. “You too!” You call out, your heart racing.
After gaining no response, you compose yourself and step back out into the club. Everything is the same as it was before; Lia and Yuna gossiping in the corner, Mark flirting with Yena, and Yeonjun and Hyunjin owning the dance floor.
Yunjin makes eye contact with you as you approach the small space Yunjin and her friends occupy against the wall of the club. She beams as you and all the nervousness and awkwardness filling your body float away. Maybe going to clubs and partying wasn’t so bad.
—-
You groan and let your head drop onto the desk beneath you. The first lecture of the day just ended and even though you thought you were prepared for the course, this upcoming assignment proves how wrong you were. You would never be prepared for any of the assignments your creative writing class has.
Standing, you exit the classroom with your ears still ringing. After Yunjin had pulled you onto the dance floor, you found yourself dancing alongside Yeonjun. You allowed the older to put his hands on your hips as he guided you through the songs playing in the club and you found yourself having fun -- a lot more fun than you usually would have curled up on your bed watching Youtube video after Youtube video. As you think back to last night, you also remember the way your skin crawled with the feeling of someone watching you, but when you looked over your shoulder, you couldn’t see anyone.
Shuddering, you step into the sun and begin your brisk walk over to the cafe where you regularly meet up with Yunjin after lectures. It was probably nothing. Since you were having so much fun last night, maybe your brain had decided to try and drag you back down into the pits of distaste and regret of entering unknown territory.
Entering the cafe, you smile at the barista and join Yunjin at your usual table. She was hunched over a piece of paper in front of you, her eyebrows drawn together. “Why are you staring at the paper like that?” You ask, digging around in your shoulder bag.
“I’m writing lyrics,” Yunjin replies.
“With your mind?”
“I wish,” Yunjin groans, leaning back on the chair.
You giggle and power up your laptop. At the same time, the cafe door jingles open and a breeze rushes through the room. Someone laughs loudly and your attention is drawn to the group of boys entering the cafe.
Yunjin’s eyes widen and she sits straight in her chair. “No way. They come to this cafe too?”
You realize who the group of boys were -- Lee Heeseung, Park Jay, Sim Jake, and Park Sunghoon. They’re part of a larger group of seven. Often, whenever you mentioned the university you were attending to outsiders, immediately they thought of that group of seven. If your university was mentioned, seven names would be mentioned after.
You don’t know much about the group. They keep to themselves and never mingle outside of their small social circle. You don’t really see them around campus that much, but you are aware of how all of them excel in academics. You’re aware that Sim Jake is on the soccer team. You’re aware Lee Heeseung is on the ice hockey team, and you’re aware Park Sunghoon was a former figure skater.
Park Sunghoon.
Your eyes pass over the taller male and a realization strikes you. His handsome face; his cold aura; his silver hair and full lips -- you bumped into him at the club. You shrink in your seat and hang your head, muttering profanity.
Your cheeks flush when you think of his warm voice, and the gentle look in his eyes when he apologized. The contrasting nature of Sunghoon surprises you. You never thought someone with such a cold face would have such a warm voice -- a warm heart.
“Yunjin,” you lean across the table, your voice quiet. “I bumped into Sunghoon last night. In the club.”
Yunjin’s jaw drops. “You did?! Why didn’t you tell me? He didn’t hurt you, did he? Did he try to murder you?”
“Huh?” You were confused. “Why would he want to murder me?”
“You haven’t heard the rumors?” Yunjin asks.
“Jen, I only come to campus for my lectures,” you remind her.
“Right. Anyway, there’s a rumor going around that Sunghoon’s the one doing all the murders. People think he’s some kind of psychopath.”
You raise your eyebrows and glance over at the group of four. Jake and Sunghoon are grinning as they tease Jay who stands between them. “Psychopath?”
“Sunghoon was apparently seen with Jaehyun before he was reported missing,” Yunjin explains. “And apparently someone saw Sunghoon washing blood off his hands in a public bathroom a couple of nights back.”
You hum and sit back in your chair. “I don’t think it was Sunghoon. He apologized to me last night even though I bumped into him.”
Yunjin purses her lips but doesn’t say anything. You glance back over at the four boys and you immediately make eye contact with the topic of your conversation. Park Sunghoon’s staring back at you, his face is stoic, and your heart tremors. You attempt a hesitant smile and Sunghoon’s the first to look away.
—-
A week later you end up outside an unfamiliar house. Beside you, Yunjin is talking to a girl named Kazuha and you’re left alone to look up at the mansion-like house in front of you. People are still swarming in and out of the house and you begin to feel claustrophobic even though you haven’t entered the house.
“Jay’s house,” a voice says behind you. Turning around, you smile at Ryujin. Lia and Yeji are standing behind Ryujin, bickering with Seungmin and Hyunjin but you pay them no mind. “The first party he’s thrown in a month. His parents banned parties in their family vacation house because of the last party. His parents are out of town for the next month, though, so Jay’s going to throw all the parties he can.”
“This is their vacation home? Why do they need a vacation home in Seoul even though they live in Seoul?” You gaze back at the house in amazement.
“Rich people,” Ryujin responds. “Filthy rich.”
Yunjin reaches out and grabs your forearm. She exchanges a few words with Ryujin and then you’re being pulled into the house. It was loud and overcrowded and everywhere you looked there was alcohol. Yunjin has to practically shout to talk to you, and the flashing party lights force you to squint as you look at the person talking to you.
Sakura was by your side once more and Chaewon was also there. Chaewon greets you with a smile and immediately launches back into her conversation with Sakura. With help from Sakura, you ease into their conversation and Yunjin shoves a plastic cup of some strong alcohol into your hand. You’ve only taken a sip and the bitter taste that spilled down your throat was an uncomfortable taste.
“Jaehyun’s death has been ruled a homicide,” Sakura was saying, deeply interested in Jaehyun’s case. “The police don’t have any leads, though, so it’s basically a cold case.”
“How do you know all this stuff?” You ask Sakura.
Sakura smiles and taps her ears. “I hear everything. I’m easy to miss in a room.”
“She’s like a mouse,” Chaewon giggles.
“A mouse draws attention,” you point out. “No one likes mice.”
“I’m a fly on the wall, then,” Sakura cuts in. “Whatever I am, I’m a professional eavesdropper and gossiper.”
“Yunjin was telling me about the Park Sunghoon rumor,” you decide to test the waters. Surely Sakura and Chaewon know more about these rumors than Yunjin. “Is he really a psychopath? Did he really kill Jaehyun?”
“Park Sunghoon,” Chaewon says, rolling her eyes. “I grew up with him.”
“He is a very cold person,” Sakura muses, sipping whatever was in her plastic cup.
“Sunghoon was an odd boy,” Chaewon continues. “I don’t think he has emotions. Or empathy. His sister broke her ankle and he forced her to walk home.”
“Really?” You gasp. Maybe, Park Sunghoon was a cold person with a cold heart.
“Even some of the lecturers are afraid of him,” Sakura says, her tone all-knowing. “That’s why he easily passes hard classes -- they’re all too afraid to fail him.”
“Sunghoon liked killing things when he was younger,” Chaewon says, scowling. “I caught him stabbing a large rat and then opening up that rat.” Chaewon shudders. “The look on his face when he caught me still haunts me to this day.”
“Sunghoon also has a temper,” Sakura adds, “I’ve heard from people he’s done group projects with, that he threatened them all if they didn’t do his part of the project for him.”
You begin to feel queasy. The Park Sunghoon you’re hearing about from the people around you isn’t the Park Sunghoon you encountered all those nights ago. The Park Sunghoon you encountered was warm. He has a warm voice, and his apology was warm.
You down the rest of the alcohol in your plastic cup even though you don’t like the taste. “I need to pee,” you excuse yourself from Chaewon and Sakura and begin walking aimlessly. It would be nice if you were able to find a bathroom, but this house seems to be endless -- everywhere you walk, there are people dancing and kissing. Everywhere you walk, there is alcohol and familiar faces.
Eventually, you find some stairs and make your way up to the second floor. You pad down the hallway, the music still present but a lot more muffled. Aimlessly, you twist and turn through the maze of a hallway and eventually end up in an empty hallway.
Leaning against the wall behind you, you hang your head in your hands. All you can think about is the way Sunghoon’s eyes slightly softened when he apologized to you, and the gentle way he spoke to you when he apologized. You felt like you were going insane.
You hear quick footsteps approaching your empty hallway and you stiffen, your heart racing beneath your ribs. A familiar face rounds the corner and your face softens into a smile. Lee Jaeho was in your sociology class. He was kind to you, and always helped you study for the upcoming exams.
Jaeho seemed to be a bit dazed though. He wasn’t walking straight and when he saw you, a bright smile broke out across his face. His words slur together when he greets you and pulls you into a hug, and you know he’s off his face drunk.
“I was looking for you!” Jaeho slurs as he pulls out of the hug, still gripping to your shoulders. “I was told you were in the bathroom but I couldn’t find you! I got so worried, Y/N.”
“Ah, I’m sorry,” you apologize with a gentle smile.
“It’s okay,” Jaeho grips your hand in his and pulls you down the hallway.
“Where are we going, Jaeho?”
“We need some privacy.”
Your heart races. “Oh. Why?”
Jaeho pulls open a door and pushes you inside. The door closes and Jaeho rests his back against the door. Your hands sweat and you rub them against your skirt. “Jaeho?” You ask, unsure. “Why are we in a room?”
“Y/N,” Jaeho sounds sure of himself, even if he’s slurring his words. “I like you. I’ve liked you ever since we first talked in Freshman year.”
“Oh,” you feel speechless, “thank you for telling me, Jaeho.”
“You like me back, don’t you?”
“Oh,” you feel taken aback.
“I see the way you look at me.” Jaeho takes a step closer and you take a step back.
“What way do I look at you, Jaeho?”
Jaeho smiles but it’s a different smile. The smell of alcohol invades the room and your breath hitches. “You look at me like you want me, Y/N. I want you to.”
The back of your knees hit the bed behind you and you fall back onto the bed. Jaeho hovers over you and you feel helpless. “Jaeho,” you don’t know what to say. “I don’t like you like that. I think you’re a nice friend --”
“Don’t fucking say that shit,” Jaeho growls. Within a few seconds, his whole demeanor changes and your helplessness turns into fear. He pushes you further back onto the bed and climbs on top. Instantly, your fight or flight response kicks in.
You squirm about on the bed as Jaeho tries to keep you still. Your legs kick up and you shake your head from side to side. “Let go of me, Jaeho,” you beg, your eyes burning.
“Stop moving,” Jaeho hisses, his hands squeezing your arms tightly.
You cry out. “Jaeho --”
One of Jaeho’s hands curls around your throat and you can’t breathe. You attempt to gasp for air but it's pointless. Your legs still kick and your free hand tries to pull Jaeho’s hand away from your throat. Your eyes burn and tears begin to trail down the side of your face.
“You’re such a fucking bitch,” Jaeho groans.
Jaeho loosens his hand from restricting your right hand to the bed and you take this second of freedom to slap Jaeho across the face. Since he’s drunk, his motor movement is unbalanced. His grip loosens around your throat in shock and you use both of your hands to push Jaeho away.
You scramble off the bed and race over to the door.
“Y/N --” Jaeho calls your name. He grabs your wrist as you go to tug open the door.
“Let go of me,” you hiss, anger overtaking the fear.
“Y/N -- I’m sorry -- I --” Jaeho stumbles over his apology, the alcohol influencing his words and actions.
Turning back around, you see red and backhand Jaeho across the face. His head turns sharply to the side and his cheek begins to bleed -- the rings on your fingers must’ve cut into his skin from how hard you backhanded him.
Jaeho turns to look at you and fear replaces the anger you were feeling previously. With a racing heart, you tug open the door and race down the hallway, Jaeho calling your name as he follows you out. Tears stream down your face as you try to find your way back to the party. Maybe you should’ve asked Yunjin to take you to the bathroom.
Impulsively, you open a door leading to another room and dive inside, shutting the door behind you. You slump against the wall beside the door and cover your mouth with your hand as Jaeho goes charging past the room. Your chest rises and falls rapidly and you can’t stop the tears.
You don’t know how long you spend in the dark room, your hand pressed to your mouth to muffle your whimpers, when the door opens suddenly. Your hand falls away from your mouth and you whimper as you fall away from the wall.
The silence is loud and you slowly look up, hoping who you see isn’t Jaeho but Yunjin.
Park Sunghoon stands above you, frowning. “Y/N?”
Your hands cover your face as you break out into sobs. Relief floods your body. You’re glad that it wasn’t Jaeho who opened that door, but Sunghoon -- who is perceived as a psychopathic murderer and you should probably feel even more afraid, but you don’t. Because facing a suspected murderer is better than being assaulted at the hands of a friend.
Hands gently pull your own away from your face. A finger tilts your chin up and you’re looking at Sunghoon again. He’s crouching in front of you, his eyes soft. His thumbs press against your cheeks and brush away the tears streaming down your cheeks. You feel warm in Sunghoon’s presence.
“Y/N,” Sunghoon says your name again. “What happened?” His voice is light. It’s not like Jaeho’s tough and demanding tone.
You only shake your head and cry some more in response. You can still feel the phantom squeeze of Jaeho’s hands on your throat.
The fingers curled around your chin tighten ever so slightly. “Y/N,” Sunghoon’s voice is deeper and a bit demanding -- like Jaeho’s voice moments before, but you don’t feel scared, you still feel safe. “Tell me what happened.”
You inhale sharply and focus on Sunghoon’s face. His eyes are no longer soft, instead, they’re the familiar darkness you saw when you first met him. His lips are screwed into a straight line. His face is cold, but his hands and his heart are warm. “Jaeho,” you whisper. “He --” gently, your hand brushes against your neck. “He strangled me.”
Sunghoon doesn’t say anything. His hands slip away from your face and he rises to his feet. “Your friends are worried about you, Y/N. Let’s go back to the party.” You take his outstretched hand and stand. You wipe away the last of your tears and follow Sunghoon out of the room.
“Did Jaeho do anything else?” Sunghoon asks. You have to quicken your pace to keep up with Sunghoon’s long strides. He easily moves through the house which reminds you that he’s friends with the owner of this house.
You don’t say anything in response to Sunghoon. Should you tell him or not? Would he believe you or not? Would he excuse Jaeho’s actions by saying he was drunk and drunk people don’t know what they’re doing?
“Y/N,” Sunghoon interrupts your thoughts. “I asked you a question.”
“He didn’t do anything else,” you say quietly.
Sunghoon huffs and grips your shoulders, forcing you to stop walking. The two of you stand in the middle of the dark hallway, Sunghoon’s face close to yours as he bends down to meet your eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Why do you care so much?” You retort, curiosity finally appearing through the fear you felt. Why did Sunghoon care so much about you? And what Jaeho did to you? You don’t even know Sunghoon. You just know he attends your college and hangs out with six other boys. (You also know about the rumors, but you don’t care for them because Sunghoon’s shown he’s not the psychopathic murderer the rumors say he is.)
“Because no man should ever lay his hands on a woman,” was Sunghoon’s response. “So, I’ll ask you again. Did Jaeho do anything else?”
Sunghoon’s eyes shine with intent -- he meant what he said. You find some kind of relief looking into Sunghoon’s eyes, you would have someone on your side. “Jaeho, he -- he said he liked me, and then he --” you break off your sentence and shrug. You can’t seem to force the bitter words out of your mouth. He almost forced me to have sex with him.
“I understand,” Sunghoon says in response. He turns away, but you catch his hand.
“You won’t tell anyone, will you?” You ask Sunghoon.
“Do you want me to?”
You shake your head. “Please don’t tell anyone. Don’t tell my friends. Can you keep this between us? Please?” Your eyes are wide as you beg Sunghoon, and you grip his hand tightly. You really don’t want anyone finding out about what happened between you and Jaeho.
Sunghoon smiles softly. “I’ll take it to my grave, Y/N.”
“Thank you, Sunghoon,” you sigh in relief.
“There’s no need to thank me yet, Y/N,” Sunghoon hums. “Which Jaeho are we talking about, by the way?”
“Lee Jaeho,” you descend the stairs leading to the party with Sunghoon. The music sounds louder than it was before. “He was in our Freshman sociology class.”
“I hated that class,” Sunghoon grumbles.
You giggle and Sunghoon’s eyes light up.
—-
The morning after, you exit your lecture with your phone buzzing away in your pocket. Jaeho had been trying to contact you all day, and now that it was late afternoon, you were beginning to grow tired of his spam messages.
Scowling, you reach into your pocket and pull out your phone. Jaeho’s messages fill up your lock screen and as you scroll through all his messages to try and find a worthwhile notification, the glare of the sun fades away.
“Y/N.”
Looking up, Sunghoon is standing in the way of the sun beaming down on you. “Sunghoon,” you were surprised to find the male outside your lecture. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you,” Sunghoon responds easily. “Where are you going now?”
“To the cafe on campus. I usually meet up with Yunjin there after all our lectures are finished,” you explain to Sunghoon as he falls into step beside you.
“I’ll walk you there,” Sunghoon says, smiling softly.
Your heart flutters.
“Has Jaeho tried to talk to you?” Sunghoon asks.
Your smile is tight. “He’s been messaging me all day. It’s getting annoying.”
“Will you hear him out?”
“Fuck no. I’ll never forgive him for what he did, even if he was drunk.”
“Being drunk is no excuse, Y/N,” Sunghoon says.
You hum. “Yeah. How do you even know who I am, anyway?” You look at Sunghoon eagerly, the curiosity within you brimming. Ever since Sunghoon uttered your name last night, you had been curious -- how did Sunghoon know who you were? And why did he care this badly about you? It wasn’t like you were in the same circle as him. You’ve been holed up in your dorm for most of your college life, and the one time you go out to party, you somehow get involved with Park Sunghoon.
Sunghoon laughs like you just asked him an incredibly bizarre question. “Y/N, we had classes together freshman year. Don’t you remember?”
“Of course I remember!” You splutter, your cheeks heating up. “I didn’t expect you to remember.”
Sunghoon raises an eyebrow. “You’re not easy to forget, Y/N.”
It’s like you forget how to function. You’re not easy to forget. Who just says that? You can’t breathe and you can’t feel your heart beating. Your fingers feel numb and your stomach is an ocean of butterflies. And this is all because of Sunghoon. The so-called psychotic murderer.
“You can’t just say that, Sunghoon!” You exclaim, your cheeks heating up.
Sunghoon shrugs. “It’s true. You were the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen -- still the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”
(Sunghoon’s words were driving you crazy -- why? Because it’s been two years since your last relationship. Having someone talk about you like this is only furthering your growing infatuation with the taller, brooding boy.)
“I was always jealous whenever you talked to other guys.”
“Excuse me?” You were taken aback by this piece of news. Sunghoon was jealous? Back in freshman year?
“I wanted to be the one you talked to,” Sunghoon admits with ease. “I wanted all of your attention.”
You truly don’t know what to think. Sunghoon’s words are driving you crazy. There’s so much to take in. There’s so much to discover you probably won’t sleep at all tonight.
“Oh, we’re here,” Sunghoon doesn’t sound too happy. It’s a shame your heart feels the same way. You don’t want to leave Sunghoon’s side, but from the way Yunjin’s looking at you from inside the cafe, you won’t be allowed to ditch this hangout.
“Thank you for walking me, Sunghoon,” you say. “It was nice talking to you.”
“Likewise. Do you have my number?”
Seriously. Sunghoon never fails to surprise you.
“No.”
“Do you want my number?”
You pull out your phone in lieu of a response.
“Text or call me if you see Jaeho,” Sunghoon says, waving goodbye after you exchange numbers. “I’ll answer right away.”
You snort and Sunghoon frowns. “I’m serious, Y/N.”
You hate how his words warm you.
“See you around, Sunghoon.”
“Definitely,” Sunghoon grins and you step into the cafe, exhaling deeply.
—-
An alumnus of your university was found dead in the alleyway beside your dorm building. His name was Taeyong. You remember him as the senior that always vaped during his lectures. He was a nice guy, though, always ready to help out anyone who asked for help.
You can’t help but shiver every time you pass by the crime scene all taped up with yellow tape hindering anyone from entering the scene. It’s been a few days since Sunghoon walked you to the cafe -- that was also the day Taeyon was killed. His time of death was put at around 11:30 PM. His death has also been ruled as a homicide.
You’ve been texting Sunghoon often. Most of the texts are short and dry, but seeing Sunghoon’s text notifications amidst all of Jaeho’s makes your heart leap in excitement. Anything to do with Sunghoon sends your heart into overdrive after his smooth talking a couple of days back.
Other than Sunghoon’s texts brightening your day, you’ve been on edge walking back to your dorm in the late hours of the evening. You can’t help but feel like someone’s watching you walk back to your dorm. Your spine always tingles and your heartbeat is loud in your ears as you walk home. You don’t listen to music anymore, opting to stay alert in case you’re the next victim of whoever is killing the students who attend your university.
“You’re still talking to Sunghoon?” Yunjin asks, peering over your shoulder as you text Sunghoon while you were both at the cafe.
“Yep.”
“He’s a murderer, Y/N.”
You snort and glance at Yunjin. “It’s rumored he’s a murderer. I don’t understand why anyone would listen to what comes out of Minjeong’s mouth anyway. She’s always talking bullshit.”
“Y/N…” Yunjin sighs.
“I know,” you reply softly. “But I’m fine. Seriously. Sunghoon treats me nicely. You don’t have to be so afraid, Jen. I know you mean well, but can’t you trust me?”
“Fine,” Yunjin scowls. “But just so you know, I have an ‘I told you so’ ready.”
You grin. “Of course you do. I should probably get going, my shift starts soon.” You rise from your sit and wave goodbye to Yunjin as you exit the cafe. You work at a nearby convenience store, the owner of the convenience store was quite nice so you didn’t mind working there, but the shifts you got were sometimes not ideal.
Today, you had the five to ten shift. When you got there, you exchanged a few words with your coworker that was leaving and then you begin to serve the customers entering the store. Slowly, the amount of customers entering the exiting the store dies down and you begin to pass the time by playing games on your phone.
You’re so focused on the game you’re playing that you don't hear the familiar bell jingling to alert you to a new customer, nor do you hear voices loudly discussing what they wanted to buy. You curse under your breath as you fail the Candy Crush level once more, and someone clears their throat.
The familiar faces of Jay, Heeseung, and Jake all stare at you as a blush quickly rises to your cheeks. “Oh. Hi! Sorry about that,” you push your phone out of view and begin to scan their items. “Would you like a bag?”
“Sure,” Jay says.
It’s awkward as you scan their items.
“You’re Y/N, right?” Jay finally breaks the silence.
“Yeah.” You don’t know why your heart begins to race.
“Why are you involving yourself with Sunghoon?”
“Pardon?” You glance up at Jay, frowning.
“You’re aware of the rumors, right?” Jay asks with a shrug, “I just don’t know why you would hang around Sunghoon.”
You snort. “I think I should be the one asking you that. You’re his friends, after all.”
“Brothers,” Jake pipes up. “We’re brothers. We grew up together.”
“Oh,” you smile at Jake. “That’s cute.”
“Look,” Jay says, bringing your attention back to him. “All I’m saying is that you should be careful, Y/N.”
You ignore Jay and read out the total showing on your screen. “Are you trying to say there’s some truth to those rumors?” You ask as Jay searches for his wallet.
Jay looks at you for a long time. You begin to feel uneasy and your stomach swoops. With the way Jay’s looking at you, there must be some kind of truth to the rumors swirling about. Maybe Sunghoon is a murderer. Maybe you’re his next victim.
You try to play off the unease you feel. “Whatever. I’m my own person, I can make my own assumptions about people. I don’t appreciate people telling me who I should and shouldn’t talk to, or hang out with. Would you like your receipt?”
“Sure,” Jay holds his hand out. “Keep the change, though. I don’t need it.”
“Sure, whatever.” You hate how easily Jay got underneath your skin.
“Look, Y/N, just be careful, okay?” Jay says gently. “You have Sunghoon’s number, right?”
You nod your head.
“Don’t be afraid to call it. See you around.” Jay nods his head at you and turns around, leaving the store with Jake. Heeseung hangs back and turns to you, smiling lightly. “Could I have the change? Jay may not need it, but I do.”
“Sure,” you hand Heeseung the change.
“Jay means well,” Heeseung says, pocketing the change. “He’s just… overprotective.”
“I guess that’s understandable.”
“And, seriously, don’t hesitate to call Sunghoon when you need to escape a…sticky situation.” You watch as Heeseung’s face lights up while he talks and you feel as though you’re being left out of an inside joke.
“Heeseung,” Jake calls out, poking his head into the convenience store. “C’mon, we have things to do.”
“See you, Y/N.” Heeseung salutes you goodbye before exiting the store, leaving you all alone.
The three boys leave you alone with your thoughts for the rest of your shift. Your shift rushes by quickly, and before you know it, you’re exiting the convenience store into the windy night. Shuddering, you tug your coat closer and begin your walk back to your dorm.
Pulling out your phone, you shoot Yunjin a text to let her know you’re on your way home. After pocketing your phone, a hand reaches out and clamps over your mouth before pulling you into a nearby alley. Your shrieks are muffled by the hand and your arms are restrained as you’re pulled further into the alley.
You’re thrown onto the ground, your knees scraping the ground harshly, and your palms begin to sting. Huffing, you push your hair out of your face and look up to see Jaeho standing over you. Your eyes widen in fear and you struggle to stand. Your legs feel numb and your heart is racing at an incredible pace it makes you feel lightheaded.
“Jaeho?”
“Y/N,” Jaeho doesn’t sound happy. The tone of his voice sets you on edge and you immediately begin to search for a way out. “Why haven’t you been responding to me?”
You look back at Jaeho. “You pulled me into an alley to ask that?”
“Don’t play with me, Y/N,” Jaeho threatens. “If you scream no one will hear you.” He takes a step forward and you take a step back, hitting the cold brick wall.
“You’re a piece of shit, Jaeho, that’s why I wasn’t responding.”
Jaeho slaps you across the face. It stings and you take a deep, shuddering breath. Your hands curl into fists and you try to keep your emotions under control.
“How many more times do you want me to say sorry, Y/N? I was drunk, I wasn’t thinking straight -- I didn’t mean what I did that night. Why are you acting like such a bitch about it? You know you can reject me, right? I’m not going to make a big deal about it.”
“I’ve already rejected you, Jaeho,” you spit. “I did it the night you almost tried to have sex with me, and I’ve been doing it for the past few days by not responding to you. God, can’t you take the hint? I’m not interested. You’re so stupid.”
Jaeho takes a step back and holds up his hands. “I obviously don’t remember you rejecting me while I was drunk. But, thank you for finally giving me a clear rejection. Now, I’ll apologize once more. Sorry, Y/N. Can we be friends again?”
“Why the fuck would I want to be friends with a rapist and an abuser, Jaeho?”
“You fucking bitch --”
“Get away from me!” You shriek, using all your strength to push Jaeho back. He stumbles over the trash bags sitting behind him and there’s a loud whacking sound as his head makes contact with the edge of the large garbage container. Jaeho slumps to the ground, not moving.
You’re suspended in time. You stare at Jaeho’s lifeless body. Something weird simmers in your stomach and you contemplate turning and leaving Jaeho to rot away in this alley. A car backfiring sends the world spinning and you snap out of your daze.
“Holy shit. Fuck. Fuck. Jaeho?” You rush over to Jaeho and reach out to shake him. He flops around lifelessly. “This is so not funny, Jaeho. Fuck. Wake up!” After a minute of trying to shake Jaeho awake, you sit back on your heels and bury your head in your hands. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You repeat over and over.
Your hands shake as you pull out your phone. You open up Yunjin’s contact information but gnaw on your bottom lip as your finger hovers over the call button. You look back at Jaeho lying lifelessly in front of you, the side of his head bleeding profusely before you exit Yunjin’s contact and click on Sunghoon’s.
It only rings once.
“Y/N?”
“Oh my god. Sunghoon. I -- I need your help.”
“Y/N? Where are you?”
“Sunghoon, I think I just -- oh my god.”
“Y/N. Where are you?”
You break out into loud sobs. “I didn’t mean to do it. I swear, Sunghoon. I swear.”
“Y/N --”
“I’m down some alley,” you say between your sobs. “I don’t know where I am. Jaeho dragged me here.”
Sunghoon swears and you hear muffled voices. “Stay where you are, I’ll find you.” The call ends and you’re left alone with Jaeho’s lifeless body. You try to muffle your sobs and steady the beating of your heart but it doesn’t work as images of Jaeho hitting his head against the metal garbage container replay over and over.
“Y/N.” A voice shouts down the alleyway some minutes later. Then you hear footsteps rapidly hitting the ground and slowly, Sunghoon comes into view. “Y/N,” he says again, this time in relief.
Sunghoon pulls you up and cups your face gently. He wipes away your tears again and smooths out your hair. “What happened, Y/N? Are you hurt? Are you okay?” His rapid questions and the warm concern in his eyes make your head hurt. You just want to be in your dorm already, tucked beneath your blankets next to Yunjn.
“Sunghoon,” you whisper. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to kill him.”
“What? Kill who?” Sunghoon’s hands grip your face tighter and he pulls you close. His whole demeanor changes after hearing your previous words.
“Behind you.”
Sunghoon turns and finally sees Jaeho’s body -- except, you see him sitting up. You gasp and break free from Sunghoon, crouching down beside Jaeho. He blinks a couple of times and glances around his surroundings as though he was trying to remember how he got here.
“Jaeho,” you cry out. “Oh my god I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to --”
Jaeho grabs your wrist tightly, a vicious sneer carved on his face. “You slut. Are you trying to kill me? Why would you fucking push me like that? You’re not getting away with this, Y/N.”
“No -- Jaeho -- I --”
“Y/N. Move away.”
Looking over your shoulder, you see Sunghoon staring down at both of you with a cold expression. A metal pipe dangles in his right hand.
“Sunghoon?”
“Move away,” he repeats, now looking at Jaeho.
You move to the side, Jaeho’s hand easily slipping away from your wrist.
“When did you get here?” Jaeho’s sneer falls off his face as Sunghoon corners him against the garbage container. Jaeho’s eyes flit over to you. “Did the fucking bitch call you? Of course she did. Y/N starts arguments she can’t finish because she’s pathetic. All bark no bite.”
Sunghoon crouches down in front of Jaeho and presses his fingers against the cut on the side of his head. Jaeho flinches. Pulling his fingers away, they’re covered in blood, and the smile that spreads across Sunghoon’s face chills you to the bone.
Slowly, Sunghoon licks Jaeho’s blood off his fingers. You can’t look away.
“What the fuck, man?” Jaeho exclaims.
Rising to his feet, the smile slips from Sunghoon’s face. He raises the metal pipe in his right hand and swings it through the air, whacking Jaeho in the head with it. The boy cries out and sprawls across the concrete, his hands coming up to clutch the side of his face.
Sunghoon doesn’t stop. He swings the metal pole through the air and hits Jaeho again. And again. This time, with two hands. Jaeho can’t defend himself as Sunghoon hits him in the head with the pole over and over again. You can’t move, your hands covering your mouth as you watch blood splatter the concrete beneath Jaeho, the brick wall beside him, the garbage container behind him, and Sunghoon in front of him.
Sunghoon stops once Jaeho is no longer whimpering in pain. The bloody metal pole drops to the ground and Sunghoon turns around, brushing his hair away from his face. There’s a bloodlust look on his face that uproots your body and you begin to move away from Sunghoon as he steps forward.
“Get the fuck away from me,” you warn shakily.
Sunghoon doesn’t listen and he continues to walk closer.
“I’m serious, Sunghoon. Why the fuck did you do that?”
“Do what, Y/N?” Sunghoon asks.
“I’m not in the mood for this. You just fucking murdered Jaeho.”
“He was going to die anyway,” Sunghoon shrugs.
“What the fuck,” you whisper. “You’re crazy.”
Sunghoon grins in response and you open your mouth to scream. In a matter of seconds Sunghoon has you pushed back up against the brick wall, a hand over mouth while his other arm is lightly pressed against your throat.
“Are you fucking dumb, Y/N?” Sunghoon hisses. “Why the fuck would you scream? You do know this is now considered a crime scene, right? If you scream, you’ll attract attention, and I don’t think you want attention right now considering you watched me beat Jaeho to death.”
Reality finally sinks in for you. “Oh my god,” you say. “You killed Jaeho and I -- I watched. Oh my god. I didn’t stop you. Oh my god.” Your head spins and everything feels woozy. Your knees give out but Sunghoon is there to catch you.
“Y/N, listen to me,” Sunghoon demands. “Let me make a call. And then, I’m going to walk you back to your dorm. You’ll take a shower, eat something, and maybe drink something, and then you’ll go to bed, okay? Let me handle Jaeho. I’ll come for you when everything has been handled. Do not call or text me, okay?”
You don’t say anything. You still feel like you’re floating.
Sunghoon’s hands squish your cheeks as he shakes your head from side to side. “Y/N. Say something. I need to know you understand me.”
“Yes.” You blurt. “Okay. I understand.”
Sunghoon smiles gently and you don’t understand how he could smile like that after ruthlessly murdering someone. You feel Sunghoon kiss your forehead. “You did a good job, okay?” Sunghoon pulls away from you and helps you to the ground, letting you draw your knees to your chest. “You should always call me before you call anyone else, okay? I’ll always be there to help you.”
You nod your head.
Sunghoon tsks. “Repeat after me, Y/N. You’ll call me before you call anyone else.”
“I’ll call you before I call anyone else,” you repeat in a small voice.
Sunghoon smiles, his hand running through your hair and caressing your cheek. “Good girl.” He stands and walks away, and you bury your head into your arms.
—-
Be normal is what Sunghoon whispered to you two days ago before he allowed you to enter your dorm. You needed to act normal and that’s what you did. You made sure to engage with Yunjin and politely talk to any of her friends who hung out with the both of you during the two days after you watched Sunghoon murder Jaeho.
You haven’t seen Sunghoon in two days, nor have you contacted him. You’ve seen his younger friends around campus but you don’t have the confidence to approach them.
You’re having nightmares now. Jaeho is always present and you always wake up sweating. You haven’t gotten much sleep so you move through your school days zombie-like. The nightmare is always the same scenario; Jaeho’s chasing after you. He corners you in an alley and he beats you to death with the exact metal pole Sunghoon used on him.
News of Jaeho’s disappearance spread quickly across campus. His friends were the last to see him -- he had walked out of his apartment without telling them where he was going. At any mention of Jaeho, you freeze up. You can’t help it.
The doors to your lecture theater swing open and you’re drawn back to the present. The headmaster of your university, who you’ve only seen a few times, enters the lecture hall flanked by two policemen. A ripple of whispers runs through the lecture hall and your heart begins to beat quicker.
“Is L/N Y/N here today?”
All eyes turn to you and you shrink into your seat.
“Miss. Y/N would you please come with us? We have a few questions to ask,” one of the police officers addresses you. You pack up your things and slide out of your seat. Everyone is watching you as you walk over to the headmaster and the two policemen. You already know what this will be about.
There’s a brisk silent walk over to an empty lab. The headmaster exchanges a few words with the two policemen before he leaves you alone in their company. Your head is bowed as you sit at one of the tables, a microscope beside you and a petri dish in front of you.
“L/N Y/N?” One of the policemen asks.
You raise your head. “That’s me.”
“I’m Officer Kim and this is Officer Jeong. We have a few questions for you regarding the disappearance of Lee Jaeho.”
You nod your head.
“First, I’ll ask you an easy question. What was Jaeho to you? A friend?”
You open your mouth but struggle to answer. Was Jaeho a friend? You think back to the night at the party when he lay his hands on you without your consent. He lost the privilege to be called a friend the moment he climbed on top of you -- but, he was drunk and he had apologized to you numerous times. Doesn’t that restore the title of friendship?
“Yeah, we were friends,” you agree softly.
It’s silent as Officer Jeong notes some things down. “We managed to retrieve Jaeho’s phone,” Officer Kim says, pulling out a sealed bag containing Jaeho’s phone. Your heart skips a beat and your eyes widen. They found his phone?
“His phone?” You question.
Officer Kim nods his head. “We found it discarded on the roadside. Obviously, it’s been smashed, but we were able to retrieve the chip.” Officer Kim eyes you. “Do you know what I’m about to ask you?”
You don’t respond. Your hands curl into fists beneath the table and your nails dig into your palms.
“Why had Jaeho been texting you frequently up until his death? And why weren’t you responding?”
“That’s a private matter.”
Officer Kim smiles. “Private or not, we need to know.”
“I don’t think you need to know.” You don’t want to admit the truth. You don’t want to tell the police that Jaeho had assaulted you. Admitting it to Sunghoon was terrifying enough but to officers of the law?
“Can I be frank, Y/N?”
“Sure.”
“You’re a prime suspect in this investigation. I think you might want to tell us everything you know, otherwise you may end up being convicted for something you didn’t do.”
You lower your head and stare at the tabletop. Your fingernails dig deeper into your palm. “I wasn’t responding because he assaulted me.” You were scared to look at the police officers. You were scared to see what their expressions were. “He assaulted me and he was texting me apologies but I was ignoring him because I didn’t want to forgive him.”
It’s silent and you slowly look up. Officer Kim gives you a gentle smile. “Thank you for telling us, Y/N.”
Officer Jeong writes something down and you nod your head. “I have another question for you,” you watch Officer Kim place a sheet of paper on the table. On the paper, is a printed-out screenshot of an Instagram DM.
“Park Sunghoon sent Jaeho a threatening message on Instagram two days before his death. Park Sunghoon mentioned you by name, telling Jaeho to stay away from you or he will do something he won’t regret. Did you know about this?”
You stare at the piece of paper and read Sunghoon’s message to Jaeho. Something swirls around in your stomach and you shift uncomfortably in your chair. “No,” you respond. “I didn’t know about that.”
“Do you have any idea as to why Park Sunghoon would send that message?”
“He found me,” you say, swallowing thickly, “after Jaeho assaulted me. I told him what happened. I didn’t expect him to send Jaeho that message, he’s just a bit….” you think back to the night Jaeho was murdered. Sunghoon didn’t hesitate to pick up your call, he found you in a matter of minutes, and he promised to take care of everything for you. “He’s a bit overprotective.”
“Alright. Thank you.” Officer Kim slides the piece of paper away and clears his throat. “Earlier, we interrogated Park Sunghoon as he is the suspect at the top of our list. We were able to confiscate his phone for a few hours and we found that you had called him on the night of Jaeho’s disappearance at 10:10 for two minutes. Jaeho’s roommates told us Jaeho left the apartment at ten o’clock. Ten minutes before you made the call.”
“I did call him.”
“Why?”
You have two choices -- do you tell the truth, or do you lie? Do you blame Sunghoon for Jaeho’s murder, or do you allow the blame to fall on someone else? Do you throw Sunghoon to the pack of wolves, or do you live in misery and guilt for the rest of your life?
“I called him because he usually walks me home at night,” you tell Officer Kim. “I work at a convenience store and my shift ends at ten. Ever since Jaeho assaulted me I have been scared to walk alone in the dark. Sunghoon offered to walk me home after each of my shifts.”
“Okay,” Officer Kim nods his head. “Your shift ends at ten, but you called him at ten past.”
“I was waiting for him. I can’t walk home alone in the dark anymore, I get scared and sometimes have panic attacks. I don’t care how long I waited for Sunghoon, I was just happy he eventually showed up after I called him.”
“Okay,” Officer Kim smiles once more. “Thank you. One last question. How would you describe your relationship with Park Sunghoon?”
You’re not sure what that has to do with the investigation, but you answer anyway. “It’s…Complicated.”
“Alright. Thank you for your time, Y/N.”
“No problem. Can I go?”
“Yes, you can. We’ll be in touch.” Officer Kim waves you goodbye. You gladly grab your bag and leave the classroom, exhaling in relief as you shut the door behind you.
“They got you too, huh?”
You snap your head to the side. “Sunghoon!”
The silver-haired boy grins and beckons you over to him. “Hello, Y/N, long time no see?”
You scowl. “Fuck you, Sunghoon.”
Sunghoon grabs your hand. “Let’s go somewhere private, Y/N. There’s a lot we need to talk about.”
“Yeah,” you snort, “especially about how you’re a fucking psychopathic murderer.”
Sunghoon grins at you from over your shoulder. You feel unsettled but you allow Sunghoon to drag you across campus. You thought you would be more angry seeing him, but instead you feel oddly comforted -- and that terrifies you.
—-
Sunghoon takes you to his apartment. It’s flash like you expected, and Jake is lying on the couch in the living room when you enter. The television is blaring loudly as Jake watches some crime documentary on a channel you’ve never heard of.
“Do you want anything to eat? Or drink?” Sunghoon asks.
“No. I want to talk about what happened with Jaeho,” you hiss, glancing at Jake who was fully absorbed in the documentary.
“Don’t worry about Jake,” Sunghoon informs you, pulling out a can of coca cola from the fridge. “He’s also killed some people. He helped me with Jaeho, in fact.”
You stare at Sunghoon, and then at Jake. “What -- what the fuck.”
“I kill people, Jake kills people, Jay kills people -- we all kill people,” Sunghoon says bluntly.
You don’t know what to say. You stare at Sunghoon, your bag dropping to the floor and your heart pounds in your chest. “Why -- why are you telling me this? What if I go to the police?”
Sunghoon laughs, leaning against the kitchen counter. “You won’t tell anyone, Y/N.”
“But what if I do?”
Sunghoon smirks. “Then I’ll have to kill you. And I don’t want to kill you, Y/N, you’re too pretty to be killed.”
“You’re disgusting,” you spit.
“I’m disgusting and yet you’re standing in my apartment.”
You scowl at Sunghoon.
“How did the interrogation go? What did Kim ask you?”
“He asked me about Jaeho,” you reply, “I had to tell him about Jaeho assaulting me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sunghoon says gently.
“No you’re not,” you retort. “You’re a psychopath, you don’t feel things.”
Sunghoon hums. “That’s true, Y/N, but I feel things for you.”
“I also lied,” you tell Sunghoon. “They asked me why I called you and I lied. Happy?”
Sunghoon beams. “Very.” He reaches out to pat your cheek. “You’re a very good girl, Y/N.”
“Whatever,” you mumble, hating the way your heart leaps at Sunghoon’s words.
“So,” Sunghoon gestures for you to take a seat at the dining table. “Do you have any questions?”
“How much time do you have?”
“For you? As much time as you want,” Sunghoon replies.
You scowl. “Shut up.”
Sunghoon laughs and sips his drink. “So?”
“Fine. How did you know where I was?”
“Easy. I’ve been following you home most nights, but I couldn’t that night because I was having a group meeting. Since I knew the path you take home, I was able to find you easily.”
You gape at Sunghoon. “You’ve been stalking me?”
Sunghoon shrugs. “Well, when you put it like that it doesn’t sound good.”
“Why have you been stalking me?”
“I was following you because I wanted to make sure you were safe,” Sunghoon replies smoothly.
“Oh. Okay.” You know you should be throwing a fit and telling Sunghoon that stalking you was wrong, but the way Sunghoon smoothly admitted to stalking you, made your chest feel warm. You don’t know how to describe it, but the idea of knowing Sunghoon was keeping you safe did something to you.
Sunghoon raises his eyebrows but he doesn’t say anything.
“Why did you kill Jaeho? Why are you a murderer? What the fuck is happening? Are you the one doing all the killings?”
“I killed Jaeho because he deserved it, Y/N,” Sunghoon says. “He shouldn’t be walking around without consequences for his actions.”
You eye Sunghoon as he talks, and a thrill runs up your spine. You don’t know how to describe your emotions. You don’t know how to describe the fire that’s burning in the pit of your stomach. The way Sunghoon is speaking -- the way his eyes look -- it’s all so thrilling. A pretty face with a twisted mind. Something within you keens to know more. The idea that Sunghoon is willing to kill for you does something.
“Killing Jaehyun was easy,” Sunghoon grins. It’s a maniacal grin. You shift in your seat and edge closer. “He was indebted to Heeseung. Couldn’t repay Heeseung, so we killed him.”
“Just like that?” You ask, your heart thumping wildly.
Sunghoon smiles at you. It’s softer and he tilts his head, “just like that, sweetheart.”
“You killed Taeyong, too?”
Sunghoon’s smile reveals his teeth. His tongue licks his teeth and he calls out to Jake, who pokes his head over the back of the couch, his honey-blonde hair falling over his face. “You killed Taeyong?”
Jake’s grin is ecstatic. His eyes light up and he nods his head like how a dog wags their tail. “Hell yeah, dude! You should’ve been there, it was so fucking satisfying. Seeing him slump to the ground?” Jake presses a hand to his cheek and sighs. “I’d do it all over again.” Jake falls away from the back of the couch, tuning back into the documentary and you turn back to Sunghoon.
“You’re all fucking crazy,” you exclaim, astonished and breathless.
“Fucking crazy and doing what everyone else is afraid to.” Sunghoon reaches out and plays with the strings of your hoodie. You edge closer to Sunghoon and stare at him, all the anger you felt for a few minutes had evaporated. You felt a weird sense of comfort and longing. It made you feel sick, but the longing overpowered it. Sunghoon killed Jaeho for you. He followed you home to keep you safe. No one’s done that before and any sane or rational person would fear for their life and beg the police to keep them safe but you -- you want to know how far Sunghoon will go.
“So. No other reason for killing Jaeho? And for stalking me? And giving me your number?”
Sunghoon hums, his index finger brushing your chin as he wraps the string around his finger. “Well, I guess there is another reason.”
“Which is?”
Sunghoon looks at you, his eyes dark and your gut drops to your feet. “I love you, Y/N,” his voice was deep and you feel goosebumps rise across your skin.
“You don’t know me, Sunghoon.”
“Do I have to know you to love you?”
You draw away from Sunghoon, the string unraveling from around his finger. “You’re crazy.”
Sunghoon chuckles and leans back in his chair, pushing a hand through his hair. “I know. That’s all you’ve said in the past five minutes. Do you have anything other than you’re crazy, to say?”
You stare at Sunghoon. You have many things to say, many sentences running through your mind. Where to begin? How do you say what you’re feeling? How do you admit to Sunghoon that you don’t mind him doing all this for you?
You grab Sunghoon by the collar of his shirt and kiss him. It doesn’t take long for Sunghoon to respond. His hands cup your face and he pulls you close, leaving you on the edge of your seat. You kiss him with everything in you. You give and Sunghoon takes. He stokes the fire burning within your stomach and you just want him to devour you. Sunghoon bites down on your bottom lip, his tongue slipping past your lips, and pleasure rushes through your bloodstream. You want more of Sunghoon. More more more more more --
Your phone vibrates against the table. You leave it, but it keeps on vibrating and Sunghoon is the one to part. You chase Sunghoon’s lips, but he keeps you away, his thumb resting against your bottom lip. “You should answer that, Y/N.”
“Okay,” you say breathlessly. You reach for your phone, not taking your eyes off Sunghoon. “Hello?”
“Y/N,” Yunjin cries, jolting you. Her sob rips loudly through the phone and Sunghoon gives you a questioning look. Behind you, Jake’s phone rings out and he groans, pausing the documentary to answer the phone. “Haechan’s dead, Y/N.”
—-
It’s been two long days since the death of Haechan. Yunjin was in the library when it happened, that’s why she called you sobbing. Haechan was only a couple of bookcases behind her when the murder occurred, and it really shook her up.
You had raced down to the campus library hot on Sunghoon and Jake’s heels. The phone call Jake had got at the same time as you was from Heeseung, who was, in fact, the one who killed Haechan. When you arrived at the crime scene, Heeseung was talking with Beomgyu and Jeongin, tightly huddled next to each other.
Yunjin threw herself into your arms and sobbed against your shoulder as you watched Sunghoon and Jake usher Heeseung, Beomgyu, and Jeonging away from the library.
You haven’t heard from Sunghoon since then and you feel like you’re going insane. Maybe kissing Sunghoon was the wrong idea, maybe you shouldn’t have kissed him, maybe if you told him how you were feeling, he wouldn’t be leaving you on delivered and never coming to class.
You stand in front of the full-length mirror in your dorm, brushing your hands against the black dress tightly hugging your features. You’re going out tonight with a goal in mind; Sunghoon. You need to see Sunghoon, you need to pick up where you left off two days ago.
“Yunjin,” you shake the girl lying in her bed asleep.
She groans and rolls over, rubbing her eyes. “Y/N?”
“Do you want to come to the party Minho’s throwing tonight? It’s some birthday bash for Changbin at some club. I’m hoping to see Sunghoon tonight, but I’m sure Sakura will be there, she’s friends with Minho, right?”
Yunjin stares at you for a very long time. “Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N?”
You stare at Yunjin, taken aback. “What?”
Yunjin scoffs and shakes her head. “I was literally almost murdered and all you care about is Sunghoon? You know, not once during the past two days did you check up on me, or offer a helping hand -- all you talked to me about was fucking Sunghoon. Some friend you are.” Yunjin rolls back over, her back facing you.
The silence in the room is loud. “I’ll bring you back some ice cream, Yunjin,” you say in a meek tone. She doesn’t respond, so you gently pad out of the dorm, shutting the door quietly behind you.
Walking out into the cool air, Yunjin’s words echo through your head. Had you really been that awful to her? When you think back to the past few days, all you can think about is Sunghoon, so maybe there was some truth to Yunjin’s words, maybe you were obsessed with Sunghoon at the moment, but surely you had offered comfort to Yunjin? She was your only friend, after all.
But, it’s whatever. If you somehow earn Sunghoon’s attention and buy ice cream tonight, then all the problems in your life will be solved.
The line in front of the club was already long. You didn’t mind the long wait because you kept yourself occupied with thoughts of Sunghoon. Sunghoon, Sunghoon, Sunghoon. He was all you could think about. Flashes of deep brown eyes, flashes of silver (almost white) hair, and a pink mouth curved into a kissable smile. He was addictive.
Entering the club, you scan the crowd. It was dark so it was hard to make out faces, but you catch sight of familiar faces -- Soobin, Yeonjun, Yena, Yuri, Chaewon, Seungmin. But no Sunghoon. Cursing, you approach the bar and order a drink, your fingertips hitting the bartop in a rhythmic manner as you continue searching the club over and over.
Minutes pass by and still no sight of Sunghoon. You knock back your third drink of the night, your tongue licking up the last remnants of your drink when the crowd parts and Yeonjun approaches you, his hair now a deep blue.
“Y/N,” Yeonjun smiles. “Nice seeing you here.”
“Yeonjun,” you smile back. “You too.”
“You look good tonight.”
“Really?” Looking over his shoulder, you finally see Sunghoon. He’s talking to Minjeong. Bitch.
“Really,” Yeonjun agrees. “Care for a dance? With me?”
You take Yeonjun’s waiting hand and he leads you to the dance floor, pushing his way into the middle where the music is the loudest. The loud club music mixes with the alcohol consuming your bloodstream and you lose all inhibitions. Yeonjun easily guides you through the rhythm of the music and his hands carefully wander across your body.
Yeonjun’s lips carefully ghost over the back of your neck. You melt into his arms and tilt your head to the side, his lips falling onto the side of your neck, artfully decorating them in little kisses and bites, his hands gripping your waist tighter as your dancing begins to turn sensual.
Your hand cups the back of Yeonjun’s neck and you turn your head, your heart in your throat. Yeonjun pulls you closer -- if that was even possible -- and his breath is hot on your lips and then you’re being pulled apart. You stumble into the dancers in front of you, who grumble in annoyance but you shrug them off and glance to see who pulled you and Yeonjun apart.
Sunghoon is towering over Yeonjun, his eyes dark and aura brooding. You notice his hands are curled into fists and before Yeonjun could say anything, Sunghoon is punching him. You watch Sunghoon punch Yeonjun a few times before you sink into the crowd surrounding the one-sided fight that was occurring -- you couldn’t bear to watch Sunghoon beat up Yeonjun, but you also know that Sunghoon will realize you’ve left and he’ll come for you.
You inhale deeply as you step out of the club. It’s 12 AM and the streets of Seoul are still alive. You walk aimlessly through the streets to get your thoughts and feelings under control. When you eventually confront Sunghoon, you want to be able to say what you want to say without stumbling over your words.
Sharply, you turn down an alleyway and walk until you reach the dead end, turning around, you place your hands on your hips and glare into the dark night. “Sunghoon, I know you’re there,” it’s silent for a few beats. “You fucking piece of shit,” you tag on belatedly.
Still nothing.
“What gives you the right to punch Yeonjun after ignoring me for two days? You don’t own me, Sunghoon. I can dance with whoever I want, and kiss whoever I want.”
Finally, you see Sunghoon’s figure appear at the end of the alley. He approaches you like how a lion stalks their prey, except you don't cower away. Sunghoon’s face is stoic, and his eyes are dark. His right hand is bloody but you don’t care, you only care about what Sunghoon will say to you.
“You can’t kiss Yeonjun,” Sunghoon answers gruffly.
“Why not?” You challenge.
Sunghoon grabs your face and kisses you in response. It’s a rough kiss, one which surprises you. You stumble into the cool brick wall behind you as Sunghoon cages you. Sunghoon’s kiss is demanding and it’s leaving you breathless as you attempt to keep up with his passion. His hands wander across your body -- over your butt and your breasts, his hands going where you want them to go. You whimper as Sunghoon bites harshly on your bottom lip, drawing blood that tastes metallic but you don’t care. You hook one leg around Sunghoon’s waist and push him closer to your body. You crave Sunghoon’s warmth.
Sunghoon draws away, and once again you’re left chasing his lips. “When you come to a club dressed like a slut, Y/N,” Sunghoon says, his voice rumbling deep in his chest, “guys will think they’re able to kiss what’s mine.”
“I’m not yours Sunghoon,” you whisper, letting Sunghoon’s thumb brush over your lip to wipe away the blood dripping down your chin. “We kissed once.”
“I also stalked you. And Killed Jaeho for you,” Sunghoon reminds, his tone firm.
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you retort, “you just did it.”
Sunghoon laughs and it chills you to the bone. “But you liked me doing that. You liked the idea of me stalking you, and you liked watching me kill Jaeho.”
You can’t deny it. Sunghoon kisses you again, but it’s gentle. His thumbs brush your cheeks in a soothing rhythm. Sunghoon moves his lips across your face -- he kisses your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, and then he dips down to kiss your throat. Raising his face to look at you, his eyes are soft. “You’re mine, Y/N,” his voice is also softer like he’s trying to lull you into his warm embrace but he doesn’t need to try. You’re already aching for his warm embrace.
“Ask me,” you whisper, your voice trembling, “ask me to be yours. Ask me to be your girlfriend. Ask me to love you.”
Sunghoon kisses you again. He’s addicting.
“Be mine. Be my girlfriend, Y/N.”
You hum, smiling softly. “Will you take me out on dates?”
“If you want to, then I will.”
You pull Sunghoon in for a kiss. “Take me on dates and I’ll love you. It’s simple, Sunghoon.”
Sunghoon traces your lips with a gentle finger. “Being mine has rules, Y/N,” he says in a low voice. “And if you break them, I’ll have to break you.”
Your pulse is loud in your ears. Anticipation hangs in the air. You want Sunghoon -- all of him. “I’ll follow them,” you promise Sunghoon.
“You don’t even know what they are, Y/N,” Sunghoon chuckles.
“I don’t have to know the rules to know I love you.”
Sunghoon kisses you desperately, your back digging painfully into the wall behind you, but you ignore the pain because Sunghoon’s warmth is overwhelming. “Rule number one,” Sunghoon pants out, his lips moving against yours. “You’re mine. Y/N.”
—-
Sunghoon’s presence has been overwhelming but it’s the good kind. All week you were around Sunghoon. Everywhere you went, Sunghoon was there. His rules were easy to follow -- when you see Sunghoon, you go to him, no matter if you’re with your friends. You can’t talk to any other men aside from Sunghoon and his friends. If you want to go out, you have to ask Sunghoon for permission, because Sunghoon has to know where you are, and when you’re dressing up to go out to a club, Sunghoon has to approve your outfit, and above all, you listen to Sunghoon. You listen to what he says and do what he asks, no questions asked.
If you were the sane, logical girl from last year, you would be searching for a way out of Sunghoon’s obsessive grip but now -- now you’re a girl who craves this kind of attention, who finds a thrill in knowing that you have all of Sunghoon’s attention for yourself. You find a thrill in knowing Sunghoon would do anything for you, and it should disgust you, but it doesn’t.
Sunghoon’s car rumbles gently beneath you. His hand grips your thigh possessively, the other lazily holding onto the steering wheel as he drives through Seoul. He was taking you on a date today, to a park to have a picnic.
“I like your skirt,” Sunghoon says, grinning as he pinches the hem of it.
You lay your hand over Sunghoon’s. “I wonder who picked it out.”
Sunghoon sneaks a look at you, his eyes dancing in amusement. “Perhaps you should give the person who picked it out a kiss.”
Giggling, you reach across the gap between you and Sunghoon and peck his cheek. “Thank you,” you say gently against his ear. Sunghoon’s hand squeezes your thigh tightly. You giggle again and slump against the seat, staring out the window again.
It’s a nice day. The sun is shining and there’s a gentle breeze in the air that keeps you feeling comfortable. Sunghoon takes your hand and leads you through the park to a secluded area. He tells you to stand there and look pretty as he lays out the picnic blanket and the basket full of food he had picked out for the both of you.
Sunghoon helps you out of your shoes, and then he helps you get comfortable on the blanket. He keeps you tucked between his legs and you relax against his chest, his arms circling your waist and keeping you warm. The breeze tickles your shoulder and you giggle softly, and then you feel Sunghoon drop a kiss on that same shoulder.
“Are you feeling hungry, Y/N?”
“A bit. What did you pack?”
Sunghoon shifts, keeping one arm circled around your waist while he reaches to pull the basket closer to him. “I brought some fruit,” Sunghoon pulls out a mandarin. “I’ll peel it for you,” Sunghoon’s mouth brushes your ear and you shiver.
You watch as Sunghoon’s hands deftly peel the mandarin for you. “Open your mouth,” Sunghoon says. He feeds you each mandarin piece and your heart swells. Sunghoon was a dream. He was your dream. He was your ideal man -- Sunghoon would kill for you, maybe even die for you. But he was also sweet, and loving, and caring.
“Tell me more about you,” Sunghoon says, his chin resting on your shoulder as you relax further into his embrace. “What’s your favorite color?” His fingers trace over your bare thigh. You ignore how it tickles.
“Pink. I like soft pink. Not bright pink, but a mellow, warm pink.”
“I hate pink,” Sunghoon says, sounding amused.
“I’ll make you love it.”
Sunghoon hums and kisses your shoulder. “I bet you will.”
“What about you?” You turn your head slightly to catch the side of Sunghoon’s face. “What’s your color?”
Sunghoon pulls away from your shoulder to look at you. He smiles. “I liked green, but these days I think I like the color of your eyes more.”
You blush and duck your head, covering your face with your hands. “Shut up, Sunghoon.”
He laughs heartily, his chest moving against your back. He kisses the top of your head. “Any siblings?”
You shake your head. “I’m an only child. What about you?”
“I have a younger sister,” Sunghoons says, though the tone of his voice wishes he didn’t.
Chaewon’s words from the party echo through your head. “Is it true you made your sister walk home with a broken ankle?”
Sunghoon scoffs. “She deserved it.” He doesn’t elaborate and you sit there in silence, letting his words simmer in the air. That should’ve been a sign for you to leave Sunghoon behind, go to the police and beg for a restraining order, or attempt to flee the country. But, you choose to sit between Sunghoon’s legs and intertwine your fingers with Sunghoon’s.
“And your parents? Are you close with them?” You ask Sunghoon.
“I cut them off as soon as I got to college,” Sunghoon admits bluntly. “What about you?” He brushes some stray strands of hair behind your ear.
“I’m close with them,” you murmur, playing with Sunghoon’s fingers. “They will probably want to meet you.”
“I’d love to meet them, then,” Sunghoon says, “after all, they created you.”
Your giggle floats through the air and Sunghoon manhandles you around to face him so he can kiss you intensely. You’re reeling from the sudden kiss, but soon you melt into the kiss, enjoying the feeling of Sunghoon warmly pressed against you.
Pulling away, you push your cheek against Sunghoon’s chest to listen to his heartbeat. Your legs are curled up as Sunghoon holds you close, playing with the ends of your hair. “Sunghoon?” You ask gently and he hums in response. “How did you -- why did you --” Sunghoon cuts you off to kiss you again. You let him kiss you for a while.
“That’s a story for another day, Y/N,” Sunghoon murmurs, his forehead resting against yours. “Let’s not ruin the mood of our date, yeah?”
You can only agree.
—-
You’re walking into a familiar club a couple of days later with Yunjin. Your eyes glance down at your phone once again, rereading Sunghoon’s texts. First, he approved of your outfit and complimented you so passionately you still blush as you read his message, and second, Sunghoon had told you he’d be arriving soon. Your stomach was on fire at just the thought of seeing Sunghoon again tonight, at a party.
Beside you, Yunjin looks at you before abandoning you in favor to seek out her friends. You let Yunjin go. She’s been giving you the cold shoulder ever since you never returned back to the dorm without the ice cream you promised her. You’ve also been blowing her off lately in favor to hang out with Sunghoon, but you could care less about Yunjin’s cold shoulder. You have Sunghoon to crawl back to at the end of the day, anyway.
You head for the bar and order a drink. You look out at the club, eyes trained on the entrance as you wait for Sunghoon. Minutes pass and the club continues to fill up. You keep checking your phone for a message from Sunghoon, but you still receive no text from him.
People pile up at the bar around you, and behind you, you hear a familiar, grating feminine voice. Shooting a side glance over your shoulder, you catch a glimpse of curly black hair and smoky eyeshadow. Minjeong sat behind you with her posse, and her voice was loud enough for you to hear.
“Did you hear the rumor about Sunghoon?” One of Minjeong’s friends asks her.
“Which one? The one about him murdering Jaehyun, or the one about him being a freak?” Minjeong asks in her annoying snarky tone. You’ve never liked Minjeong, in fact, you’ve always had a rivalry with her ever since high school. You two were the top students in your high school and when Senior year came around, both of you were vying for valedictorian. In the end, you snatched the spot from her, and from then, Minjeong’s been obsessed with stealing everything from you -- even your ex-boyfriend.
“No, the one about his relationship with Y/N,” her friend clarifies. “People are saying he’s blackmailing her into being his girlfriend.”
Minjeong laughs loudly at that. “If anything, Y/N’s the one doing the blackmailing. She’s a pathetic freak. Though, Sunghoon’s more of a freak than her so it’s a perfect match!”
Her friends titter obnoxiously and you order another drink from the bar. Minjeong was beginning to get on your nerves for the thousandth time, except this time, you might end up doing something about it rather than being the one to take the high road.
“What did you mean when you called Sunghoon a freak?” Another one of Minjeong’s friends asks, her tone curious and it makes your blood boil. What right do Minjeong and her friends have talking about Sunghoon like that?
Minjeong snickers. “Didn’t you hear? Apparently, in Freshmen year, he was caught entering a girl’s dorm and stealing all her underwear. When the campus security went through his room, they found all sorts of panties and porn magazines. He’s a peeping tom, Jimin, a freak. I guess he and Y/N deserve each other.”
Slamming the glass holding your drink onto the bar, you turn in your chair and glare at Minjeong. All her friends freeze up at the sight of you, but Minjeong only smiles slyly. “If I were you, I would watch your fucking mouth, Minjeong,” you warn.
“All bark no bite,” Minjeong taunts.
All bark no bite. Jaeho said that before Sunghoon murdered him. Your blood boils. You hate that saying.
“Sunghoon’s a fucking freak and you know it, Y/N.”
Grabbing your drink, you pour the remainder of the alcohol over Minjeong’s head. She shrieks and her friends flinch away. “Say that again.” You grab Minjeong by the shirt. “Say it, Minjeong.”
Minjeong opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. Rolling your eyes, you shove Minjeong off the barstool and she goes crashing to the ground. All her friends crowd around her, some shoot you dirty looks but you ignore them. Minjeong had it coming.
“Y/N.”
Turning around, you see Yeonjun standing there with a swollen nose and a black eye. Your eyes widen and you glance around the room searching for Sunghoon. Where was Sunghoon?
“Yeonjun, hi.”
“Y/N, listen to me,” Yeonjun grabs your hand. You flinch and try to pull away, but Yeonjun’s grip only tightens. “You need to get away from Sunghoon.”
“Yeonjun, what the fuck --”
“Y/N,” Yeonjun’s begging at this point. “You don’t deserve someone like him. He’s a psychopath, Y/N, you’re not safe with him.”
You scoff and finally tug your hand out of Yeonjun’s. “Thank you for the warning, Yeonjun, but I think I can make those kinds of decisions on my own.”
“Y/N, you aren’t listening. Sunghoon’s a fucking murderer--”
“Sunghoon!” You beam as you see the silver-haired male appear behind Yeonjun.
Yeonjun tenses up and turns slightly to see Sunghoon towering over him. Sunghoon doesn’t say anything as he brushes past Yeonjun and grips your wrist tightly, pulling you through the crowd and out of the club. You stumble over your feet in an attempt to catch up with Sunghoon’s fast pace and long legs.
“Sunghoon!” You call but he ignores you. Once he’s free from the club, he veers to the right sharply and shoves you up against the side of the club. You’re hidden away from the long line of people waiting to enter the club, the shadows protecting you from anyone who peers down this small alley in between two clubs.
“Why the fuck were you talking to Yeonjun, Y/N?” Sunghoon glares at you, his eyes fiery.
Your heart skips a beat and you reach for Sunghoon’s hand. “Sunghoon, I didn’t want to talk to him.”
“Don’t fucking lie, Y/N. I thought you understood my rules clearly. I specifically told you to not talk to Yeonjun.” Sunghoon was seething. You’ve never seen him this angry.
“Sunghoon,” you try to placate him. “He talked to me. I never want to disobey you, Sunghoon, you have to believe me. I don’t want to talk to Yeonjun but he came up to me and started a conversation with me.”
“Are you telling the truth, Y/N?”
You nod your head. “Of course, Sunghoon. You’re the only one I want.”
“Good girl,” Sunghoon breaks into a smile and cups your face with his hand, planting a kiss on your lips. “Head back into the club, I have something to take care of.”
“Okay,” you murmur, “be safe?”
“I always am,” Sunghoon kisses you again. “You look good tonight. It’s a shame I can’t be with you longer.”
“I’ll wear this dress for you another night, I promise,” you smile at Sunghoon, squeezing his hand.
“Alright. Text me when you’re leaving the club. And text me when you get home.”
“Of course.”
—-
Walking through campus, something rustles underfoot. Glancing down, you see Yeonjun’s missing poster beneath your foot. Choi Yeonjun has been missing for the past three days. You screw up the missing poster and dump it in the nearest trash can. They won’t ever find Yeonjun’s body, Jay made sure to dispose of it carefully.
Sunghoon had called you the next morning after Yeonjun attempted to ward you away from Sunghoon. It didn’t work, of course, because you loved Sunghoon and you wanted to be with him, psychopath or not. You and Sunghoon met up at a cafe on campus, he bought your breakfast for you and he explained why he had to leave you alone in the club.
Yeonjun’s death was all his fault. He had it coming.
After Sunghoon explained Yeonjun’s murder to you, you kissed him and said thank you. You knew you could always count on Sunghoon to protect you and keep you save from the people trying to interfere with your relationship.
Days passed after Sunghoon admitted to being the cause of Yeonjun’s disappearance. The hunt for Yeonjun is growing hopeless as each day passes and no one steps forward with any information regarding Yeonjun’s disappearance.
You’re working at the convenience store again. It’s a boring night but thankfully you only have an hour left. You flick through a magazine that was supposed to be on display in front of the counter but since there were no customers, you were passing time by snickering at the tabloid.
The door opens and the bell above it rings. Glancing up, you see Minjeong approaching you. You push the magazine to the side and wait for Minjeong to speak as she stands at the counter. Her eyes survey the gum sitting nearby, and she grabs a strawberry flavored packet.
“You should keep a leash on your boytoy, Y/N,” Minjeon says nonchalantly, flicking through the same magazine you were previously reading.
“I don’t need to listen to this shit from you.”
Minjeong hums. “I think you do. I saw him, a couple of nights back. The night you ruined my green dress at the club, remember?”
You smile. “I remember it fondly, Minjeong.”
“I think it was around three am? I saw your boyfriend fighting with Yeonjun. It didn’t look like a friendly fight, Sunghoon was kind of…scary,” Minjeong shrugs and your heart begins to slow down. “Eventually, Yeonjun got into Sunghoon’s car.” Minjeong places the magazine back on the rack and looks at you. “Kinda crazy, huh? That I saw Yeonjun hours before he was reported missing, and he was with your boyfriend.”
“Your total is three dollars.”
“Three dollars for a packet of gum?” Minjeong frowns.
You smile but it’s tight, unfriendly. “Capitalism, Minjeong.”
Minjeong hands you a five dollar note. “You know what’s even funnier?”
“What?”
“I saw Sunghoon later. I think it was 5 AM? I am a party girl, after all, and he was climbing out of his car alone.”
You give Minjeong back her change. “Have a good night, Minjeong.”
Minjeong tuts. “I’m not finished, Y/N. He was climbing out of the car covered in blood, Y/N. You know what that means, right? Your psychotic boyfriend murdered Yeonjun.”
You can hear the clock in the staff room ticking as you and Minjeong stand in silence. You don’t know what to do. You’re in shock. You can’t believe Sunghoon had been so irresponsible. You can’t let Sunghoon go to prison.
“Why haven’t you told the police yet?” You ask Minjeong.
Minjeong shrugs, tearing the plastic wrapping off the gum packeting. “I didn’t believe what I saw at first. And then when I did, I wanted to talk to you before I went to the police.”
“Why would you want to talk to me?”
“Because the police might question you, Y/N,” Minjeong pulls out some gum and offers the packet to you. You shake your head. “And I don’t know what your relationship with Sunghoon is like, but I know how hard it is to be in an abusive relationship and get questioned by the police. They’re ruthless.”
Finally, an out to this situation appears. You soften your eyes and fidget with your fingers, glancing away from Minjeong. “Oh.” You stare really hard at a packet of chips, not bothering to blink as your eyes begin to water.
“Y/N?” Minjeong asks softly.
“Minjeong. Can we -- can we not talk about this here? Can we meet somewhere privately?”
Minjeong nods her head. “Of course, Y/N.”
“And can you not tell anyone about us meeting up? I -- I don’t want Sunghoon to know and I don’t want you getting in trouble in case he finds out you know. .”
Minjeong nods eagerly. “Of course, Y/N. Where do you want to meet?”
“There’s an alleyway not far down. It’s across from the Chinese takeaway place. My shift ends at ten, so it’ll take me a few minutes to get there.”
Minjeong smiles gently. “I’ll wait for you, Y/N. Thank you for trusting me with whatever you’re about to tell me.”
You smile at Minjeong. “Of course.”
Minjeong bids you goodbye and when she’s out of sight, you dry your eyes and reach for your phone, firing a quick text to Sunghoon. He answers back immediately and you grin, placing your phone down and reaching for the magazine you shoved aside.
The remainder of your shift passes by slowly. Your nerves get the better of you and by the time Seungmin arrives to take over, you’re racing out of the store. Your pulse is loud in your ears as you approach the alleyway where you told Minjeong to meet you.
You see her standing down the alleyway, a little way from the enterance. The glare of her phone lights up her face. Clearly distracted, you duck down and pick a broken brick up from the ground, hiding it behind your back as you walk over to Minjeong.
“Y/N,” Minjeong smiles and turns off her phone, pocketing it. “How are you?”
“I could be better,” you respond, keeping up your innocent, scared appearance. “I just didn’t know what to do or who to tell,” you start, biting your lower lip nervously.
“It’s okay,” Minjeong reaches out to rub your arm. “You can tell me.”
“Sunghoon he…he told me he murdered Yeonjun,” you confess to Minjeong.
Her eyes widen. “Oh, Y/N.”
“I was terrified at first,” you continue, “but then after a while, I thanked Sunghoon for doing that.”
“What?” Minjeong frowns, confused. “You thanked Sunghoon for…murdering Yeonjun?”
You shrug. “Yeonjun had it coming.”
“Y/N, what the fuck --”
“Sorry, Minjeong, but you weren’t supposed to see Sunghoon with Yeonjun,” you give her a smile before you swing your hand holding the brick through the air and smack Minjeong on the side of her head with it. Minjeong sprawls to the ground, her temple bleeding.
You drop the brick and pull out your phone, calmly dialing Sunghoon’s number as you stare at Minjeong’s unconscious body. “I knocked out Minjeong,” you tell Sunghoon, “she saw you with Yeonjun the night you killed him.”
Sunghoon doesn’t say anything. He hangs up and in seconds he’s by your side, staring down at Minjeong’s body. “Do you want to finish what you started, Y/N?” Sunghoon asks, picking up the brick, “or would you like me to finish?”
“You can finish. Do you want me to call Jake?”
“Yeah, tell him to get his ass down here with Jay and Heeseung and bring my car. He’ll know what to do.” Sunghoon hands you his phone and you turn away, not wanting to see Sunghoon bash Minjeong’s head with the brick.
Jake sounded eager as you talked to him on the phone. Fifteen minutes later, Jake appears with Jay and they jog down the alley. Sunghoon’s car is parked in front of the alley, blocking anyone from looking down the alley.
“Where’s the body?” Jay asks.
“Heeseung couldn’t make it,” Jake says as he, Sunghoon, and Jay crowd around Minjeong’s dead body. “He had to handle something with Beomgyu and Jeongin. Probably a drug deal gone wrong.”
“Of-fucking-course,” mutters Sunghoon. “Fucking stoners.” He glances over his shoulder. “Go wait in the car, Y/N. Jungwon will keep you company, and we’ll talk about this later, okay?”
You nod your head and walk down the alley, opening the car door and sliding into the backseat. Jungwon sits in the driver’s seat, his fingers tapping the steering wheel as he glances out the tinted windows. “Hey, Jungwon,” you place your bag on the car floor and pull out your phone to play Candy Crush to pass the time.
“Hey. Killed Minjeong, huh?”
“Knocked her unconcious. Sunghoon killed her for me. She knew too much about Yeonjun’s disappearance. Came to me while I was working and confessed everything to me.”
Jungwon snorts. “Her first mistake. Why didn’t she go to the police first?”
“I think she was concerned for me,” you respond absentmindedly. “Thought I was in an abusive relationship with Sunghoon.” That gets a kick out of Jungwon and he laughs heartily.
“Little does she know,” Jungwon sighs after getting his laughter under control, “you and Sunghoon are a perfect match for each other.”
—-
Sliding into the passenger seat beside Sunghoon, he greets you with a kiss. It was the first day of spring break and Sunghoon was driving the both of you down to visit your parents. They were over the moon when you told them you had a boyfriend and told you they wanted to meet him over the break.
“They’ll love you,” you reassure Sunghoon as he pulls away from the curb.”You’ll definitely win them over.”
Sunghoon grins, his dimple peeking. “Everyone loves me, Y/N.”
“I love you more though,” you respond, sulking.
Sunghoon takes your hand and kisses the top of it. “I know you do, Y/N.”
“Oh!” You perk up, “Yunjin wont be rooming with me after the break. I’ll have the dorm to myself for the rest of the semester and then I’ll have to move out. Should we move in together during the summer break, Sunghoon?”
Earlier, before Sunghoon came to pick you up, Yunjin broke the news to you. You were expecting this, now that you think about it. Ever since you began dating Sunghoon, you and Yunjin grew apart. She didn’t approve of you dating Sunghoon, and you didn’t like her disapproval. What was so wrong about you dating Sunghoon? Yunjin often complained whenever you blew her off, but as it became more frequent she began to leave you alone in the dorm like at the beginning of the year when the both of you weren’t as close.
You didn’t care than Yunjin held a grudge against you for blowing her off and dating Sunghoon because, at the end of the day, you always had Sunghoon and you would chose Sunghoon over any of your friends any day.
“I like that idea. Should we move in together?”
You nod your head. “It would be so much fun living together, Sunghoon. Late nights, I can cook you dinner, and we can watch as many movies as we want! Maybe we could get a pet too!”
“A cat?” Sunghoon asks.
“Anything you want, Sunghoon,” you respond warmly. Sunghoon steals a kiss from you at the red light and you giggle, smiling bashfully and leaning forward to turn up the radio, the playlist Sunghoon made for the two of you playing.
The drive to your childhood home was only a couple of hours. Usually, the drive was boring since you had no one else to join you, but now that you had Sunghoon with you on the drive, he made it more fun. Cracking jokes and playing silly games with you, he left you breathless.
“Home sweet home,” you murmur as Sunghoon pulls up the driveway.
Sunghoon parks the car and pulls the keys out of the ignition. His hand cups your chin and guides your lips to his. He kisses you in his car, outside your house. “Cute house,” Sunghoon says after leaving you breathless. “I can imagine you growing up here.”
You blush. The front door of your house opens and your mother and father step onto the porch, waving happily when they see you. “Come on,” you reach out to pinch Sunghoon’s cheek, “let’s meet the parents!”
Climbing out of the car, you rush up the porch to hug your parents. “I missed you so much, darling,” you mother says, petting your hair.
“I missed you more, mom,” you respond, pulling her in for another hug.
“My baby girl,” your father says fondly, rubbing your cheek with the back of his hand. “How have you been?”
You beam and hug your father tightly. “I’ve been well. University has been so much fun. I miss your homecooked food, though.”
Your mother and father chuckle. “We’re glad you’re back home, darling. This break will be so much fun.”
Glancing over your shoulder, you watch Sunghoon approach you and your parents. Your smile broadens and you tuck yourself into Sunghoon’s side, “this is my boyfriend, Park Sunghoon.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Sunghoon says, shaking your father’s hand.
“You too, son,” your father says, “anyone who can make my daughter this happy is okay in my book.”
Sunghoon smiles, peeking down at you. “Seeing her happy makes me happy.”
Your father sends you a wink and you blush. Sunghoon takes your mother’s hand and kisses the back of her hand. “It’s a delight to meet you, Mrs. L/N, you created a wonderful daughter.”
Your mother’s laughter is light as it floats through the air. “Come on in, I’ll show you to your room and then you can unpack the car.”
Reaching for Sunghoon’s hand, you squeeze it gently as you step into your childhood home. Sunghoon squeeze your hand back, and when your parents weren’t looking, he sneaks a kiss on your temple. The love in your heart for Sunghoon swells tenfold.
After moving everything from Sunghoon’s car and into the house, your father takes Sunghoon away to tinker in the garage while you sit in the kitchen, watching your mother prepare dinner. “Remind me long you’ve been dating Sunghoon, sweetheart?” Your mother asks.
“Three weeks,” you respond.
“Oh. I didn’t know this was a new relationship. The way you spoke on the phone made it sound like you’ve been with him for a while.”
You shrug, peeling the shell of a pistachio. “We’ve known each other for a long time. Three weeks feels like three months with Sunghoon. I love him. And didn’t you tell me if you love someone, that’s more than enough?”
Your mother sighs, kneading out the dough. “I guess so. Just, be careful, Y/N, okay? I don’t want you to rush into a relationship and make a mistake that could cost your life.”
You giggle. “You don’t need to worry about me, mom, Sunghoon is the one for me.”
Your mother smiles at you from over her shoulder. “I’ll take your word for it.”
Your father enters the kitchen and kisses your mother’s cheek as he reaches for the fridge. “Sunghoon’s up in your room, Y/N, if you want to see him. We’ll call you down when dinner’s ready,” you father says. “I need some alone time with your mother.”
You dash out of the kitchen and up the stairs to your childhood room. You burst into the room and leap onto your bed, crushing Sunghoon. He groans and pushes you off him as you giggle, flopping back on the bed beside him. “How are you, Sunghoon?”
“I’m having fun. Your father is nice to talk to,” Sunghoon responds. “It’s making me miss my parents.”
You coo reach out to caress Sunghoon’s cheek. You throw your leg over Sunghoon’s waist and cuddle up to him, your hand falling down to rest on his chest. You close your eyes and begin to doze off, feeling relaxed and comfortable in Sunghoon’s embrace, but your boyfriend shakes you awake.
“Y/N,” he says softly. “I have something for you.” He gently pulls you upright and turns to shift through his overnight bag. It doesn’t take long for him to procure a small jewelry box and you gasp softly as Sunghoon turns to you with a big grin on his face.
“I saw this at the jewelry store yesterday. Jake was shopping for his mom since her birthday is coming up. I saw this and thought of you.” He opens the box and you gasp, staring at the thin gold ring sitting between the cushions.
Sunghoon takes it out and you hold out your hand. “It’s a promise ring,” Sunghoon tells you softly. “You’re my forever, Y/N.”
“Oh, Sunghoon,” you admire the ring. It’s a small gold ring with a flower sitting in the middle. You don’t recognize the flower so you look at Sunghoon in question.
“It’s your birth flower, Y/N,” Sunghoon explains, pinching your chin playfully.
“Oh. I didn’t even know such a thing as birth flowers existed.”
Sunghoon laughs loudly and leans forward to kiss you. “Don’t worry, baby, I know everything about you.”
You laugh against his lips and draw him back in for a kiss. You spend the rest of your time with Sunghoon kissing him and admiring the ring in the golden sunlight until your father calls you both downstairs.
Dinner was enjoyable, though you could tell your parents felt a bit unsettled as you show them the promise ring Sunghoon got you, and how you both explained your plans to move in with each other next year. The unsettling feelings carries into the night when Sunghoon was up taking a shower and you were helping your parents clean up dinner.
“Y/N, honey,” your father starts softly. “Don’t you think you’re rushing this relationship?”
You glance up from where you were washing the dishes. “What? No? I love Sunghoon, and I want to be with him forever.”
Your parents share a look. “Y/N,” your mother says, “are you sure?”
“Why are you being like this?” You ask your parents, placing down the brush you were using to wash the dishes. “Shouldn’t you be excited for me? I finally have a boyfriend who loves me and cares for me.”
Your father nods. “We are, but it just feels like you’re going too fast. You’ve only been dating for three weeks, Y/N.”
“But I love him,” you insist. “I love Sunghoon. And you’ve always told me that when I love someone, I shouldn’t let them go.”
Your mother sighs heavily. “Alright. If you believe that you and Sunghoon will last, then we’ll back off.”
“But don’t say that we didn’t warn you,” your father adds.
You finish washing the dishes in silence. You don’t bid your parents goodnight as you walk up to your room, your mood sour. Sunghoon was already in bed, tucked beneath the covers as he scrolled through his phone, probably replying to the group chat he has with his friends.
“Hey,” you mutter, pulling out your pajamas.
“Hey,” Sunghoon responds, placing down his phone. “Are you okay, Y/N?”
“No,” you respond tersely, changing out of your clothes and into your pajamas in front of Sunghoon. “My parents were being annoying.”
“Oh?”
“I’ll tell you about it after I finish washing up.” You grab your toothbrush and face wash and dash over to the bathroom next to your room, not wanting to bump into your parents. After finishing washing up, you crawl into bed with Sungoon and curl up next to him.
“What’s on your mind, Y/N?” Sunghoon brushes a hand through your hair.
“My parents think we’re moving too fast,” you grumble. “They’re trying to tell me what to do in our relationship. It’s annoying.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Sunghoon says gently. “Would you like me to talk to them?”
You shake your head. “No, it’s okay, Sunghoon. Let’s just sleep. We’ll have them convinced that we aren’t rushing this relationship by the end of the week.”
Sunghoon kisses your forehead and helps you lie down before pulling you close against his chest. “Goodnight, Y/N.”
“Goodnight, Sunghoon.”
You didn’t get much sleep. You were standing in front of the milk at the nearby supermarket zoning out. After your mother asked you to get some milk, you began your slow, sleepy walk down to the nearest supermarket.
Sunghoon has been silent all morning and you hope what you told him last night didn’t ruin his mood for the rest of the trip. Finally snapping out of your daze, you grab the milk your mother asked for, approached the register and paid.
You took your time walking home, enjoying the fresh morning air. You begin to plan how to prove to your parents that you and Sunghoon’s relationship wouldn’t crash and burn in a few years. So far, the plan you thought of wasn’t exactly going to prove to your parents that you and Sunghoon were a forever couple, but as your unlock the front door, you realize that you don’t need your parents’ approval. It’s your life. Not theirs.
Putting the milk away, you realize how quiet the house is and a chill creeps up your spine. “Mom?” You call out, “dad?” There’s no response. “Sunghoon?” You search the first floor, but your parents were nowhere to be found. Climbing the stairs, you stay alert.
Sunghoon wasn’t in your room, and your parents weren’t in theirs either. You notice the bathroom door was shut and your heart begins to race. You hope that maybe your mother and father left to go on their morning walk and Sunghoon was taking a shower.
Pushing open the door to the bathroom you smell the metallic smell of blood before you see the scene in front of you. Your parents lay lifeless on the bathroom floor, their abdomen split open with the amount of stab wounds issued to their upper body. Blood is spilled across the floor, all over the cabinet and the white walls.
Sunghoon was on his knees, hovering over your father as he slashes at his chest a few more times. “Sunghoon,” you whimper, your knees almost giving out.
The knife he was holding drops to the floor. He looks up at you and you gasp once again. Blood covers his face, it drips down his cheeks and his chin. You watch as Sunghoon reaches up to wipe the blood of his face, but his hand was also bloody. He drags his bloody hand across his mouth, getting rid of no blood. It was futile for him to wipe his bloody hand across his mouth. His hand drops back down into the pool of blood surrounding Sunghoon and your knees finally give out.
You collapse, your hands splashing the blood pooling at the entrance of the bathroom. “Sunghoon,” you whisper. You can’t take your eyes off the lifeless bodies of your mom and dad. “What did you do?”
Sunghoon beckons you over. Your body automatically moves to Sunghoon, blood seeping into the fabric of your jeans. Sunghoon’s bloody hands come up to cup your face. The blood is cool against your face, but you don’t flinch away from Sunghoon.
He leans down and kisses you. All you can taste is the blood of your parents but you don’t push Sunghoon away. You sink into the embrace of his kiss as you’re overcome with emotion you can’t describe.
“I did this for you,” Sunghoon whispers, his bloody forehead touching yours.
“For me?” You whisper back.
“Everything I do is for you, Y/N,” Sunghoon kisses you again. You grip his bloody t-shirt tightly. You don’t care about your dead parents. A small part of your brain is happy they’re dead. Now, you won’t be subjected to their judgemental stares for the rest of spring break. “If I can’t have you, no one can, Y/N. I promise you that.”
“I love you, Sunghoon,” you whisper, finally embracing Sunghoon and all of his craziness. Sunghoon would kill for you. He’s proven himself over and over again. “You’ll only ever have me.”
“I know,” Sunghoon whispers back, his hand touching your hair.
“You’d do anything for me, Sunghoon?” You ask.
“Anything,” Sunghoon answers, his lips brushing over yours.
“Good,” you smile.
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author’s note, hey…..that was. a lot. idk what overcame me when i wrote this tbh. i was possessed by the ghost of sunghoon in the concept film😊 anyway. i hope you enjoyed this fic! idk if i liked the pacing of it but. oh well. also i dont even think this fic had a plot?? it was just me writing while thinking of sunghoon😭 guys i promise one day i will post a Happy fic on tumblr with no death or murder or ambiguous endings🫶 anyways in case u wanted to know; sunghoon and y/n live happily ever after. idc if its inaccurate but sunghoon never gets caught murdering random people who touch y/n🤷‍♀️ anyways leave ur thoughts! i’d love to read them🩷
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theemporium · 7 months
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this is literally just a random wee blurb for the inexperienced!pornstar!steve x experienced!pornstar!reader series because i just wanted an excuse to write them🤠anyways! enjoy! feel free to send more concepts i can work on after smutober!
masterlist
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“Pleasepleasepleaseplease—”
“You’re such a pretty beggar for me, Stevie,” you cooed, your words dripping with that sweet, condescending tone that always made him squirm. 
His chest heaved. “I-I can’t—”
“You can. And you will.” There was no room for discussion. “Be a good boy for the camera. They wanna see my good boy come.” 
Steve was almost embarrassed to admit to you his complete lack of experience when it came to toys. Well, to be honest, he lacked experience in more factors than you’d expect for a pornstar with his following, but the toys shocked you. 
He wasn’t a complete idiot. He had watched other people use them on themselves. He had seen Eddie scroll through websites before purchasing them. Hell, Eddie had even shown Steve his collection a few times. 
But it never occurred to Steve that he could use them too. He didn’t even really think it was a guy thing until Eddie. And then after that, he just didn’t know where to even start. He didn’t think people would have been interested. 
A fact he would come to learn he was very, very wrong about. 
You had introduced a whole new world to him. And his audience loved it. They loved watching him whine and whimper at the end of the bed whilst you fucked yourself. They loved watching you slowly work him open with plugs and all sorts that he never dared to consider using on himself. They loved watching you tie him up with fluffy handcuffs and place a blindfold over him as you teased him with the wax candles you had ordered from a website Eddie had recommended. 
But he knew they would love this even more. 
“I’m sorry,” he sobbed out, his eyes glossy and wet with tears that streamed down his flushed cheeks, but you don’t think he had ever looked prettier. “I wanna be your good boy. Please let me be your good boy.”
His hands strained against the ropes tying him to the headboard as he watched you slowly crawl up the bed. He hated the distance you kept from him, from touching him like he so desperately wanted you too. He hated that instead of touching him, your fingers were wrapped around the little, black remote that had been the cause of all his pain and pleasure in the last forty minutes.
“You’re such a good boy for me, Steve,” you hummed, your eyes glancing down to his cock. He was hard—painfully hard—and his tip was red and swollen, leaking with need that only his release could give him. “Taking it all so well, baby, so fucking well.”
The buzz echoed through the bedroom, taunting and teasing him as your thumb hovered over the remote buttons. His hips bucked upwards as the buzzing suddenly increased, a choked out moan leaving his lips as he desperately sought his release. 
“Please,” he cried out, his voice cracking as his big, brown eyes looked at you, pleading. 
Your eyes glanced over to the camera set up in the corner of the room, standing proudly on the tripod with its red light blinking at you. You then turned to look down at the squirming boy beneath you, his abs softly clenching as he tried to fight the urge to buck his hips in the air aimlessly. 
“Do you think you deserve to come?” You asked him simply.
His lips parted, eyes darting over your face.
“It’s not a trick question, pretty boy,” you murmured with a smile on your lips. “Do you think you deserve to come?”
He gulped. “Yes, ma’am.” 
Your finger lightly traced along his jaw. “And where do you wanna come, baby?”
“Inside you,” he whimpered out, his head turning in a desperate attempt to seek out your touch a little longer. “Wanna fill you up. Please, let me fill you up. I’ve been so good, baby, so fucking good. Just wanna give you something too.”
You softly bit your lower lip, feeling the coil in the pit of your stomach tighten. “Yeah, pretty boy? You gonna fill me up all nice and good?”
“So good,” he whined. “Not gonna let a single drop spill. Promise.”
“How can I say no to that?” You murmured as you leaned down, your lips brushing against his as your thumb pressed down on the remote once again. “Just a little longer and then maybe you’ll get what you want, pretty boy.”
“But—” He was cut off by his own desperate cry.
“You said you weren’t gonna waste a drop, pretty boy. So don’t.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
.
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biceratops7 · 11 months
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*Wakes up in a cold sweat*
Ed and Stede give eachother exactly what they need. It’s the way Ed looks at Stede and the way Stede says Ed’s name. They share these rituals together in a way neither dreamed possible.
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There is a running visual motif of Stede being looked at. In these moments we’re placed (literally, talking about the camera here) in his point of view, where we can feel how… confronting it all is for him. His father glaring down at him with dissatisfaction that’s long since boiled into anger. His wife staring at him in an awkward silence like the frustration of being lost in emotional translation isn’t even worth a comment anymore. Nigel’s mocking gaze, Izzy’s calculated focus, It’s all to make you feel how unflinchingly exposed he is… but not vulnerable. He doesn’t get that because in order to be so you need to be understood. Stede lives with all eyes on him, but is not seen.
Then there’s Edward, who essentially has the same crushing issue but with a different presentation. His motif is his name, and what the other characters choose to call him is indicative of if they know him, or just know of him. Blackbeard is what he answers to most, but it’s not something he identifies with in the present, at best he has a very complicated relationship with the person that name represents. The greatest sailor who ever lived, the devil pYrate, a persona he perfected that has flown to the tallest mountains dragging Ed behind him. The only characters that call him Ed/ Edward unprompted or unironically are Stede, and interestingly… Izzy. We’ll come back to that later.
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Now here comes Ed, sauntering out of the hell fire and into Stede’s life like the patron Saint of leather daddies. And here we see that same familiar pov shot, and boy does Ed fucking LOOK at him. The last sight Stede sees before he conks the fuck out is this beautiful man who’s heard so much about him at his… well, Stede-iest, and is gazing at him like the loveliest thing in the world right now would be to know him even more. Ed’s heart eyes are no joke, they’re famous for a reason. Each time he looks at Stede, it is giving, it is wanting, it is a deliberate act of love.
Of course in the same sense Stede fills the hole in Ed’s life as well (not that one shut up), the desire not to be revered, but beloved, known. To just be… Edward.
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Stede used to have no noteworthy opinion on the matter of Blackbeard, enthralled by the legends as anyone else… until he met him, saw this kind and excitable man who loved all the things everyone else found silly. And suddenly now it’s none of his business. Stede doesn’t push, gets offended when information is revealed to him without Ed’s consent. He treasures all the ways he can get to know Ed, and holds space for whenever he can’t. He still admires Blackbeard sure, but only because he’s one of many facets that create someone far more interesting: Edward. From Stede, Ed’s real name is spoken with love, playfulness, simple familiarity, returning the warmth of the way Ed looks at him like another fine thing he deserves. Even when he’s not actually around to hear it, the natural thought process in Stede remains.
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I think it adds nuance and depth to each relationship that this is presented in foil with Izzy, because Izzy uses Ed’s real name as a commodity. It has value only as a threshold of hierarchy for Blackbeard’s inner circle, which as the previously sole member, Izzy is preoccupied with keeping exclusive. He’s possessive of a concept, and the more he learns just how different “Ed” is from it, the more the simple notion of Ed becomes ridiculous. Though both call him “Edward”, it’s only Stede that does so as an unconscious demonstration that he accepts Ed’s autonomy of personhood and is adoring of whomever that is.
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The last time we hear Izzy say “Edward”, it’s mocking. To him the name now only represents the pitiful death of a greater ideal “Ed” decidedly is not. The last time Stede says it, it’s when he’s confessing to Mary that he loves him. One instance treats Ed’s name as a mask of his true self, and an inferior one at that, and the other is quite literally revealing.
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The image he holds when he tells Mary he’s in love is Edward looking up at him smiling, breaking bread, completely un-pedestaled and joyful to be so. And Stede knows understanding now, being wanted, vulnerability, comfort. He calls those all Ed.
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pookie-mulder · 1 month
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My Holy Grail Fics
After the past several months of reading TXF fic, here are some of my ultimate faves so far! I’d love to know what your holy grail fics are, as well. This fandom is full of incredibly talented writers!
(Also, if have any recommendations of fics you think I’d like, send them my way!)
The Boy on the Beach by @cecilysass
I read this entire thing yesterday. Ooh boy was it a page-turner! Time travel in fiction can get dicey, but this one handles it so well. I love how the time travel plot forced M&S to confront themselves and their pasts in order to better understand each other and move forward in their relationship.
Gaslight by @sisterspooky1013
This one should come as no surprise to you. It’s rare that a fic consumes my every waking thought and I spend every free second reading as much as possible, and boy, this fic delivered. I’m such a sucker for stories like this one where the character(s) don’t know if they can trust their own minds and have to really dig deep inside themselves to find the truth.
Pause by @cecilysass
Similar concept to Gaslight as far as the amnesia goes, but totally different vibes! I love the dramatic irony of the reader putting together the pieces before Scully does. It’s agonizing in the best way!
Fall Into Place series by @skelavender
My favorite WIP fic! I look forward to reading the newest installment every Friday. I adore the slowburn, UST, teetering-on-the-edge-of-something-more MSR, and LT is the master of it! This series is filled with heart-squeezy moments that make me feel like I’m melting into a puddle of goo.
X-File #02291996 by @skelavender and @7crowsinadress
Time loop my beloved! Such an interesting (and 🔥🔥🔥) take on this trope. I can’t wait to see where it goes!
Arizona Highways by Fialka
I’m always down for an Emily AU, and this one has such a compelling, angsty twist and an air of mystery that forced me to keep reading late into the night!
Tempest by MissyPennington
I love a good survival story! There’s something so delicious about two people leaning on each other both physically and emotionally to keep going. The follow-ups are incredible, too!
All That Is Dark and Bright by @malibusunset-xf-blog
Amazing Emily AU! Dad!Mulder is my weakness. Plus, I love the way they figured out how to treat her illness. It really felt like something that would happen in canon.
I’ve Got You Under My Skin by cuits
Beautiful soulmate AU! Only M&S could have literal, undeniable proof they’re soulmates and still overthink their relationship to a ridiculous level. And I ate it up! Give me the angst! The drama! The tension!
Emily AU by skuls
Last Emily AU, I swear! This series melts your heart in the first installment, crushes it to pieces in the second one, and then makes everything better in the finale.
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viperrot · 1 year
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⇁high school sweethearts | leon kennedy | pt. 1
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resident evil 4 remake leon s. kennedy x fem!band-student!reader high school au
there's a new guy in town, and he's pretty damn cute. too bad he hates your brother, though.
content contains: mild angst, enemies to lovers, tbh? mean leon, cliches, minor religious/christian themes, story is told in first person, reader is a bit shy and is an oboe and trumpet player!, leon and reader are in their juniour year, fictional town set around 1980!
3037 words
song rec: "kutsuro gish" by hiroshi takaki
pt. 2
what's this? the blossoming of a series? yes, yes it is! very self-indulgent. i love tropes like this so much. enjoy some mean leon content and a sweet enemies-to-lovers concept, little dove :]
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Life in Everglade is... interesting, to say the least. Actually, it was extremely cliché here. Every Sunday and Wednesday, people would go to church, every Friday night was a football game, and the rest of the days were just busy nonsense. The people here rarely ever leave town, and people never really come in. It's been like this for years.
Until recently.
This fall, a handful of strangers tumbled into the little town of Everglade, proud home of the Everglade Ravens. Lucky for me, they even moved in across the street.
From my little window nook, I watch a dingy U-Haul pull up into the driveway across the street, and out comes four people. The first is a man that looks to be in his mid forties, dressed in khakis and a navy polo. Next is a little girl, who looks like a middle schooler. She's got a long skirt on and a flannel sweater, coloured with warm red and browns. After her is what I assume is an elder sister, but she doesn't look much older than the little one.. She's dressed in messy, paint-stained jeans, a black tank-top, and a pink windbreaker jacket to top it all off. She's the only brunette one out of the blonde family so far.
Then comes out the son.
Dragging himself out of the passenger seat was the most dashing boy I've ever seen. The smile he gives his sisters make my heart race—it honestly put Danny Zuko's smile to shame, and I love Grease! His blonde hair is parted to the side, hiding his eyes a bit. He's dressed up in blue jeans that grip around his thighs perfectly, a black t-shirt, and a navy-blue bomber jacket that had the sleeves rolled up to show off his forearms. From my spot at the window, I couldn't help but ogle. The mystery family all gathered around the front door of their new home to get a good look of the inside, and I couldn't help but keep my attention on the only son of the family. I noticed how their was no mother to be seen...
"Hey, thumper," a voice calls out from the door of my room. I tear my eyes away from the window to see my father, leaning against the frame of my door with his arms crossed. "He's been calling me thumper ever since I was little, seeing as how I stomp my foot when I laugh.
"Hey, pops! What's up?" I cock my head to the side questioningly.
"Mom's done with dinner. Meet ya downstairs, or are you gunna keep 'practicin''?" He smirks teasingly, looking at my unused oboe on the foot of my bed. I blush, rolling my eyes.
"I'll be down there... and I was practicing, thank you very much!" I huff. Dad just laughs at me and waves his hand, mumbling about how he'll see me at the dinner table. With that, I get up to collect myself. I take a quick look out the window one more time just to see if the boy next door was still outside, but the front door was shut tight.
I stumble down the stairs, my bunny slippers skidding down the steps as the smell of baked chicken filled my nostrils. Upon entering the dining room, I see my dad at the head of the table accompanied by my mom and my older brother, Damien, who sighs at the sight of me.
"Finally, you're here," Damien huffs. "Can you sit down now? I'm fuckin' hungry," he stretches his hand out to me so I can sit down and say grace with everyone. My dad throws a pen from his breast-pocket at my dumb brother, telling him to watch his language.
I sit at the other end across from Damien to avoid saying grace with him, holding hands instead with Mom and Dad with my head bowed down.
"Ahem... Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, through Christ our Lord. Amen," my mother says. Immediately after the prayer, Damien scarfs down the first piece of chicken he can get his hands on. I pick at some au gratin while my parents converse and scold Dami for being such a disgusting eater. I clear my throat to catch my parents' attention when they grow silent.
"So... uhm... There's new people across the street. Do you maybe... know about them?" I ask, giving my parents side glances. Mom shakes her head as a no, and before Dad can say anything, Damien coughs up a response.
"That punk Leon's the ace player from Greensmell's soccer team!" My older brother snorts, seemingly a bit angry.
So his name's Leon...
What Damien meant to say was Greenvale, which is a town over. They're probably Everglade High School's biggest rival in ever aspect—academics, sports, and even parties (apparently, I wouldn't know). The only thing I can confidently say they're bad at is marching. Their band is horrendous.
"Seriously?" I cringe at the information. "What are they doing here...?" I wonder under my breath.
"Probably got so embarrassed we beat 'em at state champ this year, the wimp probably got kicked out and thrown into Everglade!" Damien shouts with a mouthful of rice. I cringe at the sight, looking back down at my untouched au gratin.
"Cool, cool..." I mumble. "Uh... can I be excused? M'not really hungry," I ask Dad. He nods, going back to his food. Wordlessly, I take my plate to the kitchen to clean it up. As I wash dishes, I stare out the window blankly, eyes set on the house across the street. No one was out still.
I decide it's best to just go to bed after washing dishes, putting my oboe back in its case and setting it next to my backpack. I flop into my bed, part of me hoping to see this Leon guy again soon...
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I hate gossip.
I can never tell if people are talking about me, the people around me, or to me. As I walk the halls of Everglade High School, oboe and trumpet cases held tight in my hands, I hear the little murmurs of the cliques of the school. Punks mumbling, girl's that try too hard to look like Sandra Dee whispering behind their palms, and some jocks laughing loudly about Leon.
Wait, Leon?
My converse-clad feet are walking through the hall faster now. As I bump past a bunch of students, I speed my way down to the lunch room, needing to see my friends as soon as possible. Luckily, one of them sticks out like a sore thumb today. Sporting a red blazer, blue flannel tennis skirt, and black socks, I see Samantha Grey in all her glory sitting on top of our usual table, talking to a few of our little group. I stomp up to her, the charms on my instrument cases clinking softly with each step.
"Sammy!" I whisper-yell. Her brown eyes immediately look over to my position in front of her, her black hair swaying.
"Hey, sweet pea~!" She coos happily, a big smile painting her face as she gets down from the tabletop to give me a hug. "Glad you aren't too late. Me 'n' the girls were just talkin' about the new hunk in town," she pinches my cheek before helping me set my cases down on the table. I sit next to her, getting settled.
"Hunk? What's this about?" I stare, acting like I didn't know who they were chittering about. Across from Sammy and me is Lucy Brail and Patti James, who I've known since diapers along with Samantha. Lucy is the first to speak up, clearly excited to talk about Leon.
"This stud just moved into town yesterday! Apparently, he's got two little sisters at the middle school, 'n all the boys here have been howlin' about how he probably got kicked outta the Greenvale soccer team after losing nationals this year!" She says with a grin that reaches her ears. My eyebrows knit together at the information that I had heard the night before.
"You call almost every meathead here a stud, Lucy," I chuckle. She gives me a weird look before scoffing.
"This one's different, sweet pea," Sammy jabs me in the side softly, and I yelp. "He's got this look in his eyes that just scream at me like he wants me!" She sighs dreamily.
"Are you sure it wasn't his pecs you were lookin' at?" I click my tongue. Another jab to the side, and it hurts a little more than the last. I roll my eyes.
"Whatever, I'm sure he's just like the oth-"
"Oh! Oh!! There he is, sweet pea, look!" Sammy grabs me by the jaw to turn my sights to the new guy.
There he is...
Across the lunch hall is Leon, dressed all pretty in a forest green letterman jacket with his initials on the right bicep. There's a few patches from some bands he likes and a big ole "11" on the back of it with "Greenvale" above it. He's still in tight jeans, but they're black this time, as well as his t-shirt beneath the well-worn coat.
"He's got some nerve wearin' that here," Patti mutters. We all hum in agreement as we watch him saunter over to the lunch line to get a carton of strawberry milk.
"Ain't he just a dream~?" Sammy breathes out. Lucy's got this blush that could be seen from Mars, and I swear that Patti's mouth is gunna get dry with how much she's drooling. My gaze is trained on the back of Leon's head, looking at how well-trimmed his hair is.
"He's... he is pretty cute," I mumble, jaw hurting a bit with how tight my best friend was gripping onto it. I hear her giggle.
"Don't get sweet on him now, thumper!" She reminds me, using that silly nickname. “God knows your brother would tear you a new one if he found out you wanted to get a piece of Leon Scott Kennedy," she lets go of my jaw, and I roll my eyes.
"M'not sweet on anyone, Sam," I grumble. Lucy giggles, twirling a strand of her blonde curls in her fingers.
"Isn't he right next to your house, (y/n)?" She asks me. I nod.
"Yeah, actually... How did you know?"
"Oh, sweet pea?! Please, please, please tell me you gotta good view of him from your room! If so, I'm comin' over every weekend!!!" Samantha begs, shaking me by the shoulder.
"H-hey, quit it! I dunno if he's gunna be upstairs or not, and that's c-creepy!" I gasp as she shook me. Lucy and Patti laugh as I get thrashed around. From the corner of my eye, I see Leon get closer. He's got a mean look in his eyes, like he's ready to bite someone if they get near him.
I guess he's trying to protect his peace...
The girls grow silent as he walks past our table, not showing any mind to how noisy we are. They all watch Leon like dogs to a bone when he scoots past us, tossing his milk carton in the air like he hasn't a single worry in the world. When he's gone, it's like we can all breathe again.
"Oh lord, he even smells good," Patti fans herself, a blush covering up her little freckles. Sammy grins in agreement, clearly happy that she got to see the new guy so close. I stick my tongue out in disgust.
“You guys are so gross…”
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“Everyone, please welcome our new student,” Mrs. Bradshaw, the advanced chemistry teacher here at Everglade High, drones, motioning her hand to Leon near the back of the class.
And also next to me.
The blonde boy stands up, puffing up his chest a little.
“Name’s Leon Kennedy. Nice to meet you,” he says curtly before sitting right back down. Everyone’s giving him looks ranging from “I wanna rip his throat out” to “I want to kiss him behind the bleachers”, and it’s clear that he doesn’t care about it either. Mrs. Bradshaw clears her throat to stop annoying students from whispering.
“Now, let’s get started on our calorimetry unit. To begin…” The old hag’s words begin to go process in my brain as I get to writing notes. At times, I look at Leon from the corner of my eyes.
He’s writing on a piece of paper instead of a notebook, his blue ballpoint pen scraping against the surface as he messily jots down his notes. I’m pleasantly surprised to see that he actually cares about his education! I can see Leon’s tongue poking out between his plump lips, and I can’t help but stare a little. He doesn’t seem to notice me, until he looks up to check the blackboard up front.
Leon’s blue eyes set their sights on me, locking with mine. Quickly, I avert my gaze back to my notebook, trying my best to act like I was still writing notes. I hear him laugh a little next to me, but I make no effort to speak up.
When the class ends, and the bell for the next period rings, I gather my things to head off to the band room. Backpack slugged over my shoulders, I’m getting ready to pick up my trumpet and oboe case before someone else grabs of for me. Big, veiny hands take the cases by the leather handle, lifting it before my eyes. I look up to see Leon with a devilish smile.
“Caught you staring at me. Mind if I walk with you?” He says confidently. I’m a bit taken aback by his attitude, but I nod nonetheless. I’ve never really had a boy offer to walk me to class other than Damien…
“I can hold my-“
“Nah, don’t worry bout it. I carry my sister’s euphonium all the time,” he chuckles, his shoulders shaking a little as he does. I blush, not expecting him to even know what a euphonium is. So, he’s cute AND he knows the difference between a tuba and a euphonium..
“Are you sure? I-I mean, I don’t want it to be a hass-“
“Don’t worrrrryy,” he exaggerates. “Where are you headed? This is my study hall period, so I got time,” he grins.
“Uh… the band room. A-and thanks,” I tell him, nervously fiddling with my fingers. We walk out of the science lab together, me trailing slightly behind him as we walk.
“So, I’m guessing you and your little posse this morning was talking about me?” He asks, and I feel the blood rush up to my face.
Samantha and her big ole mouth…!
“Y-yeah…” I stammer, unsure of what to say. “Sorry about that… It’s just… we never really have any newcomers here, so the girls were just excited,” I bite my lip. I can feel the stares of people around us in the halls. Whether it’s out of jealousy towards me or hate for him, I’ve no clue.
“I see,” Leon hums. “It was kinda funny, so don’t apologize.” He says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. His fingers are gripping the handle of my cases tight enough to make his veins bulge a little, and I can’t help but stare. After our small talk, it’s quiet, and when we make it to the band room, we stop next to the door so he can give me back my things. As Leon hands over my instruments, footsteps thunder toward our position.
“You know, I thought it was just some sick joke hearing about my lil sister hangin’ around you, but I see that the rumours are true,” Damien growls, walking towards Leon and me slowly with his hands in the pockets of his black letterman. The blonde boy in front of me is still holding my oboe case as he looks at my older brother with an unamused stare.
“Well, had I known she was related to you, I would have never offered to carry her junk,” the ace smiled. I felt my heart drop at his words.
And then it felt like the world came crashing down on me.
Like it was fire, Leon let go of my oboe case, and it clatters against the floor. He’s staring my brother dead in the eyes as he does so, and I can feel tears swell in my eyes. I watch as my reeds, feather, and parts of the oboe pop out of the hard case, scraping against the floors of the hall.
“N-no!!” I yelp, unable to hold back my tears as I drop to my knees to gather the parts. A key or two had bent, and a few corks were damaged. I hear Damien shout at Leon, slamming his body into a locker. I don’t understand what they’re yelling about, too busy trying to pick up the bits of my instrument. More voices erupt, and I assume they’re people trying to pull my brother off of Leon Kenne-dick. My feather gets swept away amidst the commotion. When everything but that is successfully stuffed back into my case, I snap my head around to glare at the ace soccer player behind glossy eyes.
“You’re fuckin’ paying for this, you piece of shit!” Damien screams, thrashing against some teachers who dragged him away from the scene. Leon’s being escorted away as well, not giving me a chance to say anything. I’m left alone in the hall with my broken oboe before Samantha scurries out.
“Sweet pea! We heard all the ruckus, but Mr. Kay said it wasn’t safe for us to be out, and—oh, sugar…” she gasps lightly, crouching down next to me. The ravenette looks down at my open case, seeing the broken and bent keys and chipped corks. “Who did this…?” She asked me gently, setting her chin on my shoulder.
“Leon…” I hiccup, tears falling. The silence is heavy when I tell her this, and I know that Sammy can only see red. Without a word, she wipes my tears with her thumb before helping me into the band room.
I’m starting to regret wanting to see him again.
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woohoo! chapitre un, fini :] i know it’s a bit lacking, but it’s just the beginning. hope you enjoyed! pt. 2 here!
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